


Unnatural Love

by FlameWolf



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Blood, Dirty Fighting, F/M, Fighting, Gore, Inhuman Pregnancy, Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Supernatural Elements, Vince McMahon is an Asshole, Violence, graphic birth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-23 07:38:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12502248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameWolf/pseuds/FlameWolf
Summary: Seeing the power of Undertaker on the TV and in person are two entirely different experiences.  Something many fans can tell you from experience.  Often, one night is all it takes to change someone's life entirely.  A fact Sam finds out after being picked out of the crowd by the man simply known as 'The Phenom'.Soon, she is swept into an entirely different world than the one she is used to.  A world where fantasy and reality blur the lines.  A world where the law is meaningless and terrible things can be done to you for money.





	1. The Phenom

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t know and have never met any of the wrestlers in this fic. This is fiction, for fun and no profit will be made from it.
> 
> Author’s Note: Well... uh... I have no excuse for this. I only really know the most about ‘Taker’ and that’s not that much to be honest. I didn’t follow wrestling to the letter really. Gonna characterize Sting off the little I’ve seen of his stage presence. Please forgive inaccuracies and enjoy this for what it is :D

Smoke billowed out of the curtained entryway, a booming bell filling the stadium and filling the hearts of the audience with instinctual dread.  An unholy choir began to sing, sending a chill down the spines of the collected people watching.  As an organ began to play a funeral dirge, a large silhouette filled the smoky entry; moving with a strange grace down the ramp.  As the lights flickered in the darkness to simulate lightning, the gathered mob caught glimpses of a being they had come to utterly worship.  A wide brimmed hat was perched on a tall head, dark hair hanging in a bone white face as hard boots clumped on the equally hard floor.  Ebony covered his impressive figure from head to toe, the only color on him a purple cloth that simulated boots and a matching band on his hat.

As he passed, his followers reached for him with soft sighs of adoration; thrilling when their fingers brushed a tattooed shoulder.  Yet, among the avid fans, there was one, shy female who watched him with more than worship in her blue eyes.  Samantha had never been much of a wrestling fan, admittedly.  Yet, when her cousin had showed her this man’s first match, she had been hooked.  There was just something about him, about the energy he gave off in his bouts that drew her to him.  She had watched many of his matches on TV before gathering the gumption to come to the arena herself.  Now that she was here, she found herself just wanting to disappear into the crowd as he closed the distance.

The power he radiated was incredible, something already supernatural about him given his ties to an urn his strange assistant carted around.  She had thought it had been part of the show in the back of her head but now that she was here, she found it hard not believe he was something not human.  All too soon, he was bare inches from walking by; paying no mind to the throng of people sighing his title ‘Undertaker’.  Closing her eyes to gather her courage as her heart roared in her ears, she reached for the man known as the ‘phenom’; her fingertips touching his bicep oh so briefly.  In that second, it was like an electric shock had passed through her and a breath left her as she froze.  It hadn’t hurt, on the contrary, it had felt pleasant; leaving a low thrum of arousal in her womb.

That was when she noticed  _ he _ had stopped as well.  In fact, he had turned his head ever so slightly to look at her through the dark strands of his hair.  Noticing her hand was still outstretched, she slowly pulled it back; her heart doing its best to burst free from her chest.  The much taller man simply stood there, seeming to assess her despite his shorter, fatter partner trying to pull him to the ring.  Then he was turning, Sam letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding as soon as he was gone.  Without noticing, she was moving to the front; watching with wide, cerulean eyes as the behemoth climbed into the roped off square.

Soon after he had entered the ring, the music stopped and the lights came on in full; allowing her to see he had turned to face her.  His almost dead, ebony eyes were fixed on her as he removed his hat as well as a leather trenchcoat he had been wearing over his uniform.  A loud, inhuman squealing came from the door on the other side of the building; making everyone but Undertaker look at the source.  Even Samantha’s gaze had moved, a gasp leaving her when she saw a brown clad wildman charging the raised platform.  A homemade, leather mask comprised of strips covered his bearded face, his curly hair only adding to his feral appearance.

As he got closer, huge bald spots on the left side of his head became apparent.  On his upper body, he wore a sleeveless, brown shirt with a strange symbol sewn on the back.  The way he ran more resembled an animal that had just recently learned to use only two legs and more of those screeches left his mouth as he dove under the ropes and slid across the canvas on his belly.  This man was simply known as ‘Mankind’ and this was far from Undertaker’s first match with him.

Unfortunately, Undertaker wasn’t paying any attention to the beast running toward him with foam flying out of his mouth.  In fact, his inscrutable eyes had never left hers; not so much as seeming to feel it when Mankind charged into his back with all the force the madman possessed.  Another, inhuman scream tore from the human-like creature as he rolled backward; hopping onto all fours while his unkempt hair fell into his crazed eyes.  Baring blunt teeth, the combatant straightened to tear at his locks in frustration; strands flying in the air while the crowd began to murmur in confusion.

Yet, the ‘Phenom’ was utterly unaffected; staring her down while the man known as Paul Bearer tugged uselessly at his arm from the side of the ring.  The short, unnaturally pale male looked outright perplexed; his mustached lip twitching as piggy eyes followed his ward’s gaze.  When he saw a normal looking female staring back, he only felt his confusion grow.  His Undertaker had never been this distracted by the petty mortals that watched the carnage, in fact, the dark being had never taken notice of them before.  Still, the mystery would have to wait.  The masses were growing restless the longer the scheduled fight was delayed.  So, in a last ditch effort, he raised the urn to get the warrior’s attention.

As if sensing the power held within the object, the giant of a man swung slowly to look at his handler.  All Paul had to do was point, Mankind squealing while he rushed the other man yet again.  This time, ‘Taker was ready; bracing to catch the man.  To no one’s shock, the neanderthal of a man was running straight into the trap.  In an instant, the masked creature was caught and spun deftly upside down; the wrestler holding him preparing to perform his famous ‘Tombstone’.  Locking gazes with Sam once more, he dropped to his knees; slamming the top of his adversary’s head into the mat.

Going limp, Mankind fell forward with a sickening thud; booted feet twitching.  Not wanting to waste the opportunity, ‘Taker crossed the other man’s arms over his chest.  Tossing back his thick mane of ebony hair, he showed he had rolled his dark eyes up to their whites; his tongue lolling out like he was some beast.  Unperturbed, the ref began the countdown; declaring him the winner and helping the tall male to his feet to raise his hand.  While this happened, several men in white suits came out to surround the unconscious assailant.

Though she couldn’t quite see what they were doing, she did see something get injected in his muscled arm.  Then he was being carted out of the ring while the champion was gathering his coat from his squat assistant.  Dark eyes landing on her once more, she felt her heart stutter in her chest.  Flushing as she licked her lips, she brushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear while ‘The Phenom’ climbed out of the ring and descended the metal stairs.  Suddenly, he was walking towards her.

Brown eyes watched this from a spot at the announcer’s table, a slight grin curling thin lips.  Beside him, a much more heavy-set man was glaring up at him.  “I know that look Vince.  That’s the look you get when you see easy money,” spat a Texan accent, sounding vaguely disgusted while the crowd continued to cheer for Undertaker around them.

“You don’t get big if you think small Jim.  I’ve never seen ‘Taker react to anything or anyone before.  He’s been nothing but a robot.  Until now,” cooed the gray haired announcer, moving his mic up while keeping his gaze fixed on the ‘Dead Man’.

Unaware of the observation, the hulking man was reaching toward the much smaller woman in front of him.  Touching her cheek with the barest brush of his fingertips, he let out a low hiss when another shock passed between their bodies.  Moving his gaze to his fat companion, he gave a singular nod before starting to make his way up the catwalk.  Vaguely wondering what that had been about, Samantha watched the wrestler until she felt someone tugging insistently on the sleeve of her coat.

Looking down, she was a bit shocked to see the unnaturally pale face of Paul Bearer.  Beady eyes met hers from the depths of dark eyes sockets, a strangely off feeling about the man.  Smiling up at her, the slimy assistant gestured for her to join him on the other side of the barricade.  A request that shocked her even more.  Suddenly, she found herself surrounded on either side by a bulky security guard.  In the next second, she was bodily lifted over the metal wall meant to keep the mob at bay.  An action that was followed by a series of disapproving boos.

Giving her a grin she didn’t like, the corpse-like man was motioning toward the polished ramp his boss had ascended.  Licking dry lips and wishing for the safety of the crowd, Sam nodded before going up the slight incline.  The journey felt like an eternity, people screaming for her blood while a few items were even thrown at her.  A few soda cups and half full popcorn containers bounced off her, filling her with the urge to just flee.  After all, she hadn’t asked for any of this.  “Just ignore them.  They’re all jealous that they will never get close to my Undertaker,” assured a falsetto that made her look around for the speaker.

When she simply saw Paul, she felt unsurprised.  She had only heard him a handful of times but it had sounded exactly like that.  Shaking her head and not really wanting to compete with the crowd, Sam simply kept walking.  It was only a few more steps to safety.  Not only that, but she would finally figure out what Undertaker wanted.  Let alone what their connection was, if the electricity she had felt had been any indication.  She had never felt anything like that before with anyone else and she was curious why she would feel it with this stranger.

As soon as she was stepping onto the plateau, a large hand was reaching out of the thick darkness to pull her backstage.  Strong arms engulfed a small body before the pair was moving through a maze of halls and rooms.  Then they were going down a series of stairs, entering a cool dungeon that lurked below the arena.  A faint, coppery scent filled the air, along with the sound of faraway screams.  It was all she could do not to retreat back to the world of light above.  Back to where things were still sane.

The sound of metal hinges creaking brought her attention to a heavy, metal door that was being pushed open by Paul.  Then she was being ushered inside, still trapped inside ‘Taker’s arms.  As they moved, torches flared to life down the long hall.  It was then she noticed they were alone.  It seemed that not even the odd man outside was allowing in this place.  The opening ahead showed why as soon as the torches in the walls flickered on.  In the middle of a circular opening was a large, coffin-like bed.

It wasn’t just a bed that was shaped like a coffin.  A lid hung open to one side and the interior was lined thickly for comfort.  It was just large enough to hold her host alone and she found herself wondering why she’d been brought here.  Then she was being guided to a chair, the fighter releasing her ever so slowly.  Taking a seat, she watched while he placed his trenchcoat lovingly on a coat stand.  This was closely followed by his wide brimmed hat, leaving him oddly naked looking.

Moving the curtain of hair out of his face, unnaturally dark eyes met hers unblocked.  Holding out a hand, he waited; power radiating off his powerful body while bottomless orbs bored into hers.  Even without him speaking, she knew what he wanted; placing her hand in his.  An appendage that was easily outsized by his.  Closing his fingers around the limb, he pursed his goateed lips when yet another shock passed between them.  Suddenly, he was scooping her up in his arms; laying her down in his ghoulish bed.  Just laying in it made her feel like a corpse waiting to be buried.

Staring up at the giant of a man, she jolted slightly when he reached down to place his palm against her cheek.  Locked in his gaze, she felt something stirring in the back of her mind.  Flashes of something that almost felt like lost memories.  Giving a nod, her host released her; walking away from his bed to retrieve a chair.  Placing the chair by the side of the furnished, over-sized coffin, he sat in it and proceeded to stare at her.  Sitting up slowly, Sam felt both confused and surprised.  She had expected him to proposition her.  Not... whatever  _ this _ was.  “Um, I’m Samantha,” she ventured, offering a hand.

Her host simply nodded, ignoring the offered appendage while he continued to stare at her.  It was like he was just as confused by what was happening as she was and seemed unsure of how to proceed.  “H-haven’t you ever taken one of the fans before?” whispered out of her, something squeezing inside her when he shook his head.

“Oh, I guess I should take the lead then?” she continued, feeling more than a little nervous as she leaned out of the coffin.

Instead of moving to meet her, the hulking man simply watched; even when her lips landed on his.  Lips that were much cooler than any normal person’s.  Making a shocked noise, Sam pulled back; shaking fingertips touching her mouth.  She could have put off his cold hands as poor circulation but this was another matter entirely.  It was almost like he wasn’t alive at all, filling her with a deep unease.  Yet, she didn’t want to run away.  Instead, she reached with an unsteady hand to touch his gaunt features.  His skin was just as cold as his lips, unsettling her greatly.

Closing his eyes, this beast of a man leaned into her touch; releasing a sound that replaced some of her unease with a warm sensation.  Nuzzling slightly, he kissed her palm; a slight tension she hadn’t noticed before leaving his broad shoulders.  “You... you were afraid I’d run...  weren’t you,” she whispered, heart stuttering when ebony eyes shot open and his head slowly nodded.  Taking a breath and ignoring the voice in the back of her head that she get out before this went too far, she kissed him once again.

While the temperature of his lips filled her with instinctual revulsion, she tilted her head to give them a careful lick.  When he opened to her soundlessly, she swept her tongue into his mouth.  There was a faint, unpleasant taste lingering under the sweetness, reminding her vaguely of how rotting meat smelled.  Shoving the thought to the furthest reaches of her mind, she brought up a hand to cup his cheek while his tongue began to dance cautiously around hers.

It was almost like he was afraid she would run from him, filling her with a poignant sorrow for this being.  This strange creature wearing the skin of a man.  This dark beast that was wrapping her in a shaking hold while his kiss slowly grew less and less timid.  Gradually, he positioned himself over her smaller frame; taking over for her with a careful nip of sharp teeth.  Large but gentle hands cradled wide hips as a low rumble reverberated into her mouth.  Releasing her lips, he nipped eagerly at her pulse; hands moving to unbutton the skin tight jeans she had chosen to wear.

Finally, they came free; moving down her legs along with the silken material of her red panties.  Next came her shirt and her bra, leaving her exposed before a superstar.  Suddenly feeling self conscious, she shielded her body from his inscrutable gaze.  While she wasn’t ugly, she also wasn’t the supermodel she had seen hanging off of many of these guys.  She had fat clinging to her belly and thighs, not to mention the stretchmarks on her slightly saggy breasts.  She was nowhere near pretty enough to be the first female he brought down here.

It was only gentle but insistent pulling on her hands that brought her focus back on the wrestler above her.  A faint glare was now on his pale visage, nostrils flared as black eyes fixed on hers.  It was like he was pissed that she dared to hide herself from him but was unwilling to simply uncover her by force.  Nodding in response to the unspoken message, she spread her arms to allow him to see her once more.  Humming in approval, he placed his left hand under the corresponding breast; weighing it thoughtfully.

Some of his hair falling in his face, Undertaker leaned forward to take her pink nipple into his cold mouth.  Gasping at the unfamiliar sensation, she looked down at the bottomless eyes fixed on her face.  Even if he wasn’t as human as he looked, she quickly found herself not caring.  He wasn’t doing anything to harm her when he could easily just take everything he wanted from her.  Cautiously, she wove her fingers into his surprisingly soft locks.  When he closed his eyes and purred around her, she felt encouraged.

Giving her taut flesh a few, skilled licks, he stealthily moved a hand to her wet nethers.  When rough but chilled fingers met her hot flesh, she let out a soft cry of surprise while her back arched from the spark of pleasure that ran through her.  Releasing her breast, the towering male made his way down her quivering body until his goateed mouth was level with her slit.  That electricity from earlier was increased tenfold, her back arching while a moan left her lips.  Hands scrabbling at her hips for a few moments, the Phenom got to work.

Each caress of his talented muscle set off a shudder through her, building up the fire within her to a nearly unbearable inferno.  The low growls he was letting out were only helping, drawing her toward something powerful and magical at the same time.  Something she had never been able to achieve with her own hand.  Then his tongue was dipping into her wet cavern and she was tipping over that sweet edge.  Falling apart with his name on his tongue.  Then, her vision was graying out; Undertaker pulling away from her long enough to lay her in his coffin.  Instead of doing anything to satisfy himself, he simply curled up beside her, keeping an eye on her while she slept.


	2. The Backstage Experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I have loads of strange plans for this. Don’t be surprised if I only use the various stage names for the wrestlers. There’s a good reason for it.

Faint screams in the background were what ultimately woke her up, her body sitting up before her eyes were even open.  Staring into the endless darkness, Sam desperately tried to remember where she was and why she could smell blood lingering in the air.  When she felt someone shift on the mattress beside her, it all came rushing back.  Still, she made no move to fight when a pair of muscular arms wrapped around her waist loosely.  Facial hair surrounded lips rested on her neck before her host was laying her back in the over-sized coffin.  It almost felt like he was trying to tell her it was safe and she should go back to sleep.

Rolling so she was facing the wrestler, she stared at his dark silhouette while her eyes gradually adjusted.  When she had bought tickets to the show, spending the night with Undertaker had been the last thing on her mind.  Not to mention just how weird things were around her.  It almost felt like she had stepped into another reality entirely.  A reality where things like the law didn’t matter and it frankly scared the shit out of her.  Nestling into the chest of the man she had come here to watch, she felt a bit safer when he simply held her tightly against him.

Some part of her was more than a little sad that this would all end tomorrow.  They hadn’t even made love yet.  A fact she was still more than a little surprised about.  With all the stories she had heard about trysts with the others, she hadn’t expected things to end at oral.  Even now, she had some expectations that he would try to initiate sex now that she was awake.  Instead, his large hand rubbed her back in an effort to lure her back to slumber.  Deciding not to question it, Sam let out a long yawn before giving him a timid kiss under his chin.

Making a noise that could be a purr, ‘Taker reciprocated with a kiss to her forehead.  For a man many considered a monster, he was being strangely sweet with her.  She certainly hadn’t thought him capable of anything like this just looking at him.  “Thanks for tonight.  Its the strangest thing but... I almost feel connected to you.  Sounds silly doesn’t it?” came out of her as she began to doze.  The male holding her shook his head, cupping her left cheek with one hand.  This caused the same jolt of electricity to jump between them, drawing a gasp from her as she woke up just slightly.

“You... you feel it too,” whispered out of her, her vision adjusting enough to make out dark eyes locked on hers.  Nodding, the Phenom gave her lips a chaste kiss before giving a quiet, irritated huff.

“I know.  You want me to sleep.  Don’t worry, I’ll go back to slumberland soon,” came an assurance despite the fact she should have no worldly idea what he was trying to tell her.

Ignoring all the questions due to exhaustion, Samantha simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift.  Soon, she was slipping into the easy comfort of her dreams.  Dreams that involved someone that looked a lot like Undertaker and a river of blood.  Dreams about a huge beast guarding the entrance to this place and feeding the thing treats.  She could even feel it coarse, black fur under her hand while it wagged its unusual tail.  A tail she couldn’t quite see.  In fact, like most dreams, the details were blurry.  The only thing that stood out clearly, was the face of her ethereal companion.

 

_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Next Day~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _

 

It wasn’t the sun or birds chirping that signalled the coming of another day.  It was the absence of her odd, temporary roommate.  Still, something in the back of her head told her that he wasn’t gone.  Opening her eyes slowly, she was reminded of the fact torches were being used for lighting by the lack of pain.  Staring at the high, satin lined wood around her, Sam sat up carefully.  Looking around the dungeon-like room, she wasn’t too surprised to see ‘Taker sitting in one of the few chairs furnishing the decently large space.

There were several bookshelves lining the walls, packed with volumes of varying ages.  There were also a couple dressers as well as a table placed on top of a small square of crimson carpet.  Every piece of furniture was made out of a black colored wood that seemed to hold a natural lacquer.  It had to have cost a fortune to furnish this place.  Not to mention the fact that the entire room was made of large, stone bricks.  Still, she was soon distracted by her current problem.

Staring over the side of the coffin made into a bed, she was more than a little intimidated by how high they were.  It would be near impossible for her to get out on her own.  As if sensing her thoughts, her silent host was getting to his feet; an amused expression on his unnaturally pale face.  Without his ebony hair in the way, she could see all his features quite clearly.  Despite having a rather intimidating face, the smile he wore softened the hard edges.  Bending his tall body, he easily lifted her out; placing her on her feet.  Then he was motioning toward the table he had just vacated.

Blinking, she only had a moment to wonder what he wanted before there was a knock on the door.  Moving toward the steel portal, ‘Taker opened it to reveal a smiling Paul Bearer.  Piggy eyes moving, his smile faltered when he saw the woman was still in the room.  The few that Kane brought here always ran as soon as they could get away.  Looking up at his ward with a questioning expression, he startled when the silver dome he was carrying was snatched out of his pudgy hands.  Then the door was unceremoniously shut in his face.

Turning back to her, her host raised a brow when he saw she had yet to take a seat.  Blinking, she nervously moved over to one of the two chairs.  While she was a bit surprised, Sam certainly wasn’t going to turn down a free breakfast.  Moving a lock of her ebony hair behind her ear, she was feeling more than a bit flustered.  A soft chuckle brought her attention back to ‘Taker just as he set the dome down in the center of the table.  Removing the top with a flourish, he revealed a massive breakfast.  There was a veritable mountain of pancakes, a pile of scrambled eggs, a mass of crispy bacon and several pieces of toast.  It looked more like it was meant for twenty people rather than just one man.

Moving to a small cupboard, the warrior pulled out two plates as well as silverware; answering her questions about how she was going to eat the banquet in front of her.  Taking a good amount of the food, Sam was a bit surprised when her host simply pulled aside a few strips of bacon.  “You’re not hungry?” she ventured, hoping he wouldn’t mind the question.  Meeting her gaze carefully, the much larger male slowly shook his head before nibbling on a piece of fried pork strip.  Confused but not willing to push it further, she shrugged it off before digging in.  If he didn’t want to eat, that was his business.  Besides, it wasn’t like she had much of a say in what he did.

Breakfast was a silent affair, a fact that wasn’t surprising given how much of a chatterbox ‘Taker had been so far.  Still, Sam had hoped he would ask her what her name was or how to contact her.  No matter how silly the desire was.  While he was a superstar with his pick of groupies, she found herself wanting to have a relationship with him.  Especially with the odd connection they seemed to both feel.  Looking down at her clean plate, she felt a pang of regret that she would have to leave now.  “Thanks... for last night,” murmured from her lips, her heart slowly beginning to turn into a painful ball in her chest while she got to her feet.  This was hurting a lot more than she thought it would.

Tilting his head to one side, the ‘Dead Man’ was slowly getting to his feet; brow crinkling slightly.  Smiling at him to show it was okay, she moved a lock of her ebony hair behind her ear before walking toward the heavy metal door they had come through the other night.  “If you could somehow call for Paul Bearer, I can get out of your hair and we can both get on with our lives,” she announced, forcing a smile on her face while feeling like everything inside her was being ripped out at once.  Understanding dawning on ‘Taker’s face, he shot out a hand to grab her wrist before fairly yanking her away from the entry.

With a firm shake of his head, he pulled her against his body before wrapping his arms tight around her.  Flushing while a burst of elation blossomed inside her breast, she soon found herself brought down quickly by reality.  While it would be like a fairytale to live here and be with this mysterious man 24/7, she had a job to return to.  Not to mention her family and friends on the outside.  There was also the fact he was probably just trying to help her feel better about what was going on.  There was no logical reason he would want her to move after one night.  They hadn’t even had sex for crying out loud.

Sighing as she allowed herself to lay her cheek against his built pecs, she felt her tears come despite trying to remain strong.  “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better by pretending I mean more to you than I do but its okay.  Really.  I’m not new to the game celebrities play.  I’ve read more than enough to have a good idea that most of these situations are meant to be one night only,” she tried to reason, tilting her head back so she could look at him.  When she saw the stern, almost frightening visage his was infamous for, she felt the beginnings of unease.

“No,” growled his deep voice, the singular word seeming to almost echo through her entire body.

It it was only one syllable, it held more power than when anyone else spoke.  In fact, it told Samantha all she needed to know about his true feelings about her leaving.  Happiness replacing the sorrow squeezing around her heart, her logic forced a rather feeble argument against something they both obviously wanted.  “But, what about my life on the outside?  My job?  My family?  My friends?” came a fairly reasonable question.  Instead of answering, ‘Taker tightened his hold on her.  Before she could say anything else, there was another knock.

Looking down at Sam with heavy concern, the wrestler seemed hesitant to release her so he could see who his visitor was.  Realizing this, she gave him a reassuring grin.  “Its okay.  I’m not going to run away from you,” she asserted.  Still, he was very reluctant to loosen his hold even a little.  With what looked like an extreme effort on his part, ‘Taker slowly unwound his arms from around his feminine visitor.  Giving her a rather stern glance, he moved toward the door; acting like she was some wayward cat that would scoot around his legs as soon as the door was open wide enough.  It almost made her laugh, his utterly serious expression being the only thing keeping the merriment at bay.

“Really, I promise,” she whispered, meeting his bottomless eyes carefully.  Giving her an endless stare, he gave a simple nod before slowly swinging the door open.

It was no surprise to either of them that Paul Bearer was there, smiling up at the man he considered his ward.  “Vince wants to see you both,” squeaked his abnormally high voice, his jowls jiggling slightly when he turned his head to look at Sam.  Seeing him on TV did no justice to just how much like a corpse both he and the Phenom looked.  Combined with the odd taste she had noticed while kissing the fighter, she began to feel the slightest bit uneasy.  Not to mention the screams that had disturbingly faded into a sort of background noise.  What the Hell was going here?  Whatever it was, she was starting to have a sense she had long lost her ability to opt out of it.

Seeing this man in person, touching him; it had awoken something in her.  Something that almost ached to be near him.  Something that was almost impossible to deny.  As apprehensive as she was, she really didn’t think she’d be happy if she went back to the ‘real world’.  She’d be thinking about the superstar almost constantly, wondering if she had imagined all of it.  In all honesty, she’d end up back here sooner or later and would cause the both of them a lot of pain.  Still, could she say she was really ready for such a heavy commitment.  A slight choking sound brought her back to the here and now.

Returning her focus to her host, she was more than shocked to see him lifting the man he considered his father by his wattled neck.  Rushing forward to place a hand on ‘Taker’s left bicep, she felt her protest die in her throat when he shot her a look out of the corner of his eye.  Licking her lips, she backed away with a vaguely fluttery feeling in the center of her chest.  Nostrils flaring, her host’s eyes widened before he was slowly setting Paul down.  Turning toward her, he went to one knee and opened his arms.  It was like he was making an effort to seem less frightening.

Still, the young woman was hesitant.  To see him so violent outside the ring somehow brought it home how dangerous he could be under the right circumstances.  He was a fighter and seemed to have an odd distance from other humans.  In fact, with the exception of her or Paul, he didn’t seem to really react to much.  Not that she had been around him long enough to really know that for sure.  It could be that yesterday was just how he acted when he was ‘in character’.  Still, something deep inside her told her this wasn’t the case.

After some contemplation, Sam began to approach ‘Taker.  For some reason, it felt like she was crossing some threshold she could never come back over.  The glimmer that came into the wrestler’s ebony eyes didn’t help this suspicion.  Yet, she couldn’t back down now.  Even with her heart racing at about 100mph.  Stubbornness had always been both a blessing and a curse.  Despite any logic, she bent to wrap her arms around his neck.  For some reason, she felt right at home.

Relaxing just slightly, Undertaker hugged her back gently.  Breathing out in a quiet huff, he gave her cheek a kiss before straightening.  “I know you don’t like Vince but that was no reason to attack me,” grumbled the overweight assistant, bringing their attention back to the fact that he was still there.

“Besides, if you want  _ her _ to stay; you two will have to straighten things out,” he pointed out, bringing a look of worry onto ‘Taker’s pale face.  While Sam hadn’t followed wrestling for long, she was well aware of how much of an asshole Vince McMahon was.  What she didn’t understand was why on Earth the man had any right to demand anything.  As far as she knew, he was just an announcer.

A large hand wrapping around hers startled her out of her thoughts.  Looking up, she saw that her host almost seemed scared.  A man who had shown no reaction to someone like Mankind was afraid of Vince.  Suddenly, she wasn’t all that sure if she wanted to go through with this anymore.  Suddenly, she was filled with a strong urge to run.  To run and never look back.  Unfortunately, it was far too late for any of that now.  Had been since she had seen the dungeon that came before his room and didn’t flee while screaming.  Not to mention the fact that she had pretty much already agreed to stay.  At least until they had sorted out whether she was really going to stay here or not.

Brow furrowing, the 7’ tall male simply bent to scoop her up into his arms.  It was like he was trying to tell her, in his own way, that he would make sure she was safe.  Unable to argue, Sam simply nuzzled into his defined pecs while he began to move.  Despite the worry as well as questions buzzing through her head, the combination of motion as well as scent had her dozing off.  Thankfully, he woke her just before they reached Vince’s office.  Yawning and opening her eyes, she felt her anxiety return when she saw the rather ornate door in front of her.  It was mahogany, elaborate designs hand carved into the highly polished wood.  It was almost like looking at the door of someone of great importance, not some two bit narrator for a fight.

Looking up at Undertaker, Paul Bearer raised a pudgy hand to knock.  Before his dimpled knuckles could land, the entry was swinging open with a skin crawling creak.  “Enter,” commanded a familiar voice, one she and millions of others had heard officiate innumerable matches.  Growling low in his chest, the Phenom frowned before moving into a large but very well lit room.  The carpet was a lush, red affair and the walls were painted a nearly blinding white.  There were several bookshelves line with VHS tapes, all having to do with the company or the wrestlers.  At the opposite end of the room was a large, Oak desk; polished to a mirror sheen.  Behind said desk was Vince himself.

Smiling in an almost kindly manner, the gray haired male motioned to the pair of chairs positioned at the front of the desk.  “Take a seat,” purred a request that sounded a lot more like a demand.  Making a displeased noise, the current star of the company walked forward; boots thudding on the thick carpet.

“Thank you for bringing my message but you are no longer needed. You may leave now,” snapped another command when Paul made a move to join the pair.

Blinking, the fairly short assistant frowned slightly before doing as he had been ordered.  As soon as the door was shut, Vince’s startlingly blue eyes were focusing on Undertaker solely.  For the longest time, there was only silence.  The entire time, Samantha wished she could simply disappear into the wrestler holding her.  “Not everyday you have a woman spend the night ‘Taker.  In fact, I would say this is the first time you’ve ever done it.  I’m impressed.  Most of the others had groupies coming in on their first day,” murmured a soft, oddly neutral voice.  Then his gaze was slowly shifting to the dark haired femme.

“What’s your name hun?” came a deceptively gentle question.

Not really wanting to reveal her identity, she simply gave him a blank stare while ‘Taker’s arms tensed slightly around her.  Instead of getting angry, the man across from them merely chuckled; brushing off the lapels of his gray suit coat like he didn’t have a care in the world.  “You don’t trust me.  Its okay, I’m a practical stranger.  I’m also sure the fact our friend is so tense isn’t exactly a glowing review of my character.  I’ll make things a bit easier for you by revealing a small tidbit about myself no one in the public knows.  I own this whole show,” came a declaration that explained everything.  In fact, all Sam could do was stare.

“Now, your name hun?” he cooed, his voice dripping with a fake sweetness.

“S-samantha,” stammered out of her, causing a sharp intake of breath from the star holding her.

“Alright Samantha.  You have accidentally stumbled into something your little mind couldn’t possibly comprehend.  Something that goes beyond what most people would consider ‘normal’.  Because of this, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave,” he announced, sounding like he was commenting on nothing more interesting than the weather.

Blinking, she wondered if she had heard right; Undertaker letting out a continual rumble of displeasure.  While he hadn’t been intending on allowing her to leave anyway, he seemed particularly incensed that Vince had been the one to pull the trigger.  “Of course, you will be allowed contact with your family.  Under specific conditions, naturally.  You will be well cared for and will want for nothing,” continued the voice of the owner, fading into a drone while her thoughts began to whirl in a panicked circle.

There was no way any of this could be legal.  Yet, something deep inside her told her that didn’t matter in this case.  “Why...  None of the other women had to stay,” came out of her in a stunned murmur, halting Vince’s spiel.

“Undertaker here... he and his brother are special exceptions.  Any woman that spends the night must either be paid off or forced to stay,” he pointed out.

“Then why not just offer me some cash?” she protested, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.  Whatever was going on between her and the ‘Dead Man’ was worth more than any amount of money.

“I don’t think you’d take it dear.  Now, you’ve heard everything I have to say.  You’re both free to go,” McMahon dismissed, waving at them with a lazy movement of his hand.  It was like they were no longer worthy of his attention.

Taking the opportunity, the Phenom got to his feet and left the room.  As soon as they were outside, he was placing her on her feet.  Sighing, the larger male seemed a mixture of guilty as well as slightly surprised.  There wasn’t even the smallest bit of hurt from her careless words.  It was like he could read her mind, the thought giving her an odd chill.  “Its okay.  I was probably going to stay anyway,” she pointed out before beginning to head back the way they had come.  Falling in step beside her, Undertaker told her hand in a loose hold; not releasing her for the entirety of the journey.


	3. Being Welcomed Into the Fold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer #2: I do not own and have never met ‘The Rock’. This is fiction, just for fun and no profit will be made from this.
> 
> Author’s Note: Taker isn’t exactly a social butterfly but his fellow wrestlers aren’t about to let him bringing in a woman go by unnoticed.

 

Wandering down the hall that would lead back to the entry of the dungeons, Sam became aware of the fact there were other figures lingering just outside the fringes of her vision.  Blinking, she stopped; forcing Undertaker to pause with her due to the fact their hands were linked tightly together. Immediately, strong arms were wrapping around her while the figures approached them.  The first to come into view was a mountain of a man, tanned skin gleaming while eyes stared at her from behind dark shades. Raising a manicured brow, the dark haired giant raised his chin so his gaze was more directed at the man behind her.  “Cute girl ‘Taker. Seeing her out?” rumbled a smooth baritone, making every hair on her body stand on end.

A low, dangerous noise came from behind her, the arms wrapped in front of her like a shield clenching slightly.  “No... I’m afraid I’m being ‘persuaded’ to stay,” came a response that made the chiseled man look back down at her.  Raising that same brow again, he simply shrugged before he was moving past them and into another hall.

“Don’t mind Rock.  He barely takes notice of anything that isn’t on the other side of his mirror,” chuckled a teasing mid-tone, drawing her attention back to the other fighters.  The one speaking to her was wildly unlike the others. He was a bit on the short side, at least compared to these behemoths. He was also thin and wiry rather than thick and muscular.  Swooping his dark hair back with his bare hand, he grinned and her with a goateed mouth.

“Name’s C.M. Punk by the way, pleasure ta meet ya,” purred out of him as he reached out a fingerless gloved hand for her to shake.

Blinking, she simply shrugged before reaching out her own hand to reciprocate.  It was a massive shock when he yanked her forward and out of the embrace of her lover.  Soon, she was surrounded on all side by massive, muscle bound strangers. Unfamiliar, tattoo covered arms wound around her to offer protection; drawing a displeased rumble from ‘Taker.  Meeting his gaze long enough to shake her head, Sam smiled up at the people who would likely be her new family. “Hello! Name’s Samantha,” she offered.

“Name’s Hulk Hogan sister!” boomed a powerful, attention grabbing voice, drawing her attention to a red and yellow clad man.  He was just as built as the others, blonde hair hanging down to his chin while he was bald on the top. Taking her hand in tanned fists, he shook her whole body rather than just her offered appendage.

“Macho Man!” roared a much more colorful man next to him, dressed vaguely like a cowboy but in neon colors.  He wore thick shades that were almost like a rectangle sitting on his square face. Black dreds peeked out from under a fluorescent cowboy hat and a bearded mouth grinned widely at her.

Shaking her head, she carefully extracted herself before heading back to the safety of her otherworldly lover.  As soon as she got close enough, he was scooping her up; holding her tight against his pecs while glaring at the others.  “We didn’t mean any harm big guy. You’ve never had anyone overnight and we were all curious. Besides, she’d have met us at some point anyway,” the man who called himself C.M. Punk chirped, holding up both hands with his palms facing outward to show he meant no harm.  Huffing, the Phenom simply turned on his heel before heading down to the dungeons.

Once he was gone, an invisible tension went out of the small group.  “Phew... never seen him act like that with anyone. Wonder what the story is,” Punk mused out loud, green eyes glimmering with mischief.  Knowing what this expression meant, Hulk began to glare while crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about, you better stop.  Dunno if you noticed but that undead bastard is more powerful than all of us put together.  The only reason we win during lesser bouts is because of his contract with Vince. Don’t fuck with this woman of his,” the flaxen haired warrior advised, knowing full well he was likely to be ignored.

Scoffing, the troublemaker waved off his fellow fighter.  Yet, on the inside, he was already formulating plans. It had been too long since anything interesting had happened around here and he was determined not to let the opportunity pass him by.  Besides, it wasn’t every day someone like Taker’s companion stayed after seeing what they had. Everyone involved in the business knew about Kane and Undertaker’s... peculiarities. Thus far, all of Kane’s potential conquests had run for the hills as soon as they had been able.  For some reason, Samantha hadn’t been given that choice.

“Hogan is right... just let this go,” rasped a baritone that held a commanding edge.  A voice that had everyone look up while its owner stepped from the shadows. The first thing visible was his face, having been painted a bright white.  Black surrounded his eyes and lips, stripes adorning the corners and bottoms of both. Midnight colored hair was slicked back from his forehead and red tinted eyes glared down at all of them.  Like Punk, he was a bit more slender but still maintained an impressive build. Lifting his upper lip, he crossed bare arms in front of a leather clad chest.

“Taker isn’t like the rest of us.  He has powers we can’t even begin to comprehend.  Do us all a favor and just do the responsible thing this time,” the apparition growled, well aware of the fact that the others were cowering away from him.

Since he had come here, everyone had been afraid of him.  Something he was entirely okay with. As a rule, he much more preferred solitude.  Still, he had his reasons for speaking out now. Of all the fighters gathered here, he sympathized with Undertaker the most.  He and the undead male had a lot in common, both being shunned by the more ‘normal’ men. It just didn’t seem right the reclusive star had to be pursued by these hounds just because he had found a female companion.  Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like that peace was about to be granted.

While seeming frightened, Punk still had that telltale glint in his vibrant eyes.  A glint that said the time of peace was over. The man had been bored for weeks, a terrifying prospect once you got to know him.  “Come on Sting, do I really look like the type of person to act like a kindergartener? I mean, really,” the long time trickster cooed, his smile giving him away.  So, with a singular motion, the painted male grabbed the other man by the shoulders; pulling him in close.

“I know you are and, this time, I am asking you to just not go with your impulse.  Got me,” the man simply known as Sting murmured in Punk’s ear, smirking when the shorter man gulped audibly.

Unaware of what was happening behind them, Sam and Undertaker continued their journey; the oddly protective fighter eventually setting her on her feet.  Smiling, the brunette glanced up at the headliner towering over her; wondering vaguely why he felt so frightened by the others. “They seemed nice,” she offered, feeling even more mystified when he glowered down at her in response.

“Do you know something I don’t?” came a simple question that took the wind out of his sails entirely.  Sagging, he shook his head while still looking entirely too apprehensive. It was like he was admitting they weren’t bad people but he didn’t trust them.

Deciding to drop the obviously uncomfortable subject, the curious woman simply took in the sudden change of scenery as soon as they opened the doors that led downward.  It felt eerily like they were entering a separate dimension. The lighting went from normal to dark and faintly tinted red. The walls turned from wood to black, jagged stone, seeming to seep a clear fluid.  The air was filled with the sounds of people being tortured as well as the smell of stale blood. Shuddering, she reluctantly followed when her odd companion began to head down.

While it was the same as it had been when she first came here, it seemed even creepier in the light of day.  Some part of her had hoped that the rising of the sun would erase this nightmare. To see it was really here and not some fever dream or set piece made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.  How could any of this go ignored by the police or society at large? Yet, something inside her told her she would be much happier without knowing the answers to these questions. That there was something happening here that would be beyond the comprehension of the populace at large.

As they reached the ground floor, a hulking figure stepped into their path; effectively wiping any further thought from her mind.  Immediately, ‘Taker was in front of her; blocking her view of the immense man. So, despite her better judgement and the fact that her heart was thudding in her throat, Sam peeked around to get a better look at the stranger.  He was almost as massive and the Phenom, built much more broadly and just a hair shorter. Long, greasy black hair flowed down just past his shoulders and angry, ebony eyes glared at them from behind a red streaked, black leather mask.  A similar red streak was also across his chest, almost making him seem like he had blood splashed on him.

Like Undertaker, this beast of a man was silent; allowing his body language to do the talking for him.  From what it was telling her, the man was not impressed by the fact that she was still here. Looking up at her dark companion, she wasn’t all that surprised to see he was just as pissed.  “She’s mine Kane,” growled out of him, making this the most she had heard out of him yet. Unfortunately, the fighter across from them only became more angry at the declaration. Letting out a low growl, the shorter man was reaching around to grab her; only stopping when ‘Taker grabbed his wrist in a crushing grip.

Rather than repeat his earlier warning, he bared his teeth at the wrestler in front of them.  As Kane sunk slowly to the floor, ‘Taker slowly released him; simply pushing his was through with Sam on his heels.  Staring back at the shadowed figure that was pulling himself to his feet. From what little she knew, the beast was the Phenom’s long lost brother.  A man who was a lot more feral and out of control. A man that was someone to fear judging by the way he had turned to glare at our backs, let alone the things the others had said about him.  Of all the stars she had met today, he seemed like the one she would have to watch out for the most. It certainly didn’t help that she could feel his eyes burning into the small of her back, making it a relief to be back in her companion’s room.

Breathing out a sigh once the heavy door was closed, she slumped in one of the chairs at the table; running a shaky hand through her inky hair.  “Christ... He’s a pleasant person isn’t he?” she tried to joke, immediately regretting her decision when her quiet host simply gave her a concerned look.

“Sorry.  I have a bad habit of trying to make light of things when I’m nervous,” came a weak explanation.  Shaking his head, the towering being walked toward her; kneeling so he could take her into his tattooed arms.

In an instant, she noticed he was shaking; dark eyes staring up at her with a fear she hadn’t thought him capable of.  “I intend to stay out of his way, of course. And you don’t have to worry about me trying to escape,” she assured, reaching forward to cup his shockingly cool cheek.  Leaning into the touch, he let out a small, worried noise before slowly straightening. Towering over her easily, bottomless eyes stared down at her for what felt like an eternity.  Then he was walking over to the other chair, lowering himself on the splintered, tired looking wood. It was honestly a wonder it was even holding his rather considerable weight.

Meeting his gaze carefully, Sam found her questions from her first night here returning with a vengeance.  So, taking a deep breath, she gathered what courage she had and began to speak. “You’re not really... alive, are you?” came the first of many inquiries.  Despite knowing what the answer was, she still felt her heart drop into her stomach when he shook his head.

“Okay, then what  _ are _ you?  Are you some kind of zombie?  Or some demon from Hell?” she whispered, feeling oddly unafraid.  While he was definitely supernatural, he seemed to have no drive to cause her harm.  In fact, he went out of his way to protect her; even if it wasn’t needed all the time.

“I... no longer remember.  Neither do the others...,” came his response, taking her more than a bit off guard.  Compared to yesterday, this was downright talkative and she had a feeling it wasn’t the norm for her odd host.

Blinking, Sam found herself with even more questions than before and little hope of answers.  From the look of it, he knew as much as she did about what was going on. Feeling a headache from stress staring to come on, the young woman rubbed her temples as she leaned back in the chair.  “I imagine I’ll figure this all out at some point. There is  _ one _ thing I want to know.  Am I in any danger?” murmured out of her, dread filling her due to what she was sure the answer would be.  Her only warning was a low growl before she was simply moved into ‘Taker’s lap, resolute orbs glowering down at her.

Instead of responding verbally, he simply wound powerful arms around her; his muscled body tense.  With a large hand, he began to pet her hair; an action that was meant to sooth her as much as it did him.  It seemed like, as far as he was concerned, he would allow nothing to threaten her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help but feel ill at ease anyway.  He had no control over what any of the other wrestlers did, least of all Vince. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that something horrendous would happen to her sooner or later.  There was also the fact that, as strange as he was, he wasn’t a superhuman. He couldn’t be in multiple places at once and he certainly couldn’t protect her from everything, the encounter with Vince being clear evidence of this fact.

Nestling into his cotton covered pecs, Samantha simply let out a slightly aggravated sigh.  “I wasn’t planning on any of this when I came here. I just wanted to see you up close,” came a confession she hadn’t meant to give, making her freeze in place.

Blood roaring in her ears, she looked up at ‘Taker with utter horror written on her pale face.  Like always, his expression was neutral; his eyes resembling bottomless pools as they threatened to suck her into their depths.  Just as she was beginning to think he was regretting the fact he was now stuck with her, he pressed his lips to her forehead; tickling her skin with his facial hair.  Then, ever so gently, his callused hand began to caress her upper arms; soft noises of pleasure escaping him due to the simple contact. Humming as she felt her muscles relax, it started to dawn on her that he had likely had very little contact in the way of a willing partner.

While he hadn’t brought anyone here, that didn’t mean he hadn’t taken many a cheap whore to some seedy hotel simply because he needed relief.  It was possible she was the only person to have shown him something other than fear or outright disgust. In fact, she welcomed his touch as well as what affection he wished to show.  Something other people might cringe away from after only a few minutes with him. Frowning slightly, she reached up to kiss his goatee; giving him small pecks on her way to his mouth.

As soon as their mouths melded together, he was embracing her; large hands covering her back easily as he allowed her to take the lead.  Letting out a soft, amused noise, she deepened the lip lock; lightly touching his tongue with her own. A low groan came from the huge man under her, thighs twitching under her fingertips from his need.  Slowly, as if afraid to hurt her, he moved one of his hands to cup the back of her head; twining his fingers in her midnight hair. Hot, harsh breaths gusted into her mouth, his tongue growing more demanding the longer this went on.

He wasn’t the only one being swept away by the mysterious chemistry, Sam was also becoming lost in the fog of need that suddenly enclosed around her.  Something deep inside her was craving this man, giving a slight franticness to her actions. Without noticing it, her own hands had come up to cup his face; her tongue fighting his for dominance.  All too soon, she had to break for air; the heat in ‘Taker’s dark gaze making her insides feel a bit gooey. Seeming unsatisfied with how things had ended so abruptly, he pushed her head forward to kiss under her chin while she panted to catch her breath.

Meanwhile, the hand that was on her lower back traveled to grasp her left butt cheek; pulling her hips closer to a very obvious erection.  As soon as she felt the telltale, hardened flesh pressing against her core, she was moaning; moving her right hand up to tangle in his surprisingly well groomed hair.  With a animalistic sound, he pushed his hips up into hers; grinding slowly as he leaned up to take her mouth in a hungry kiss. Yet, despite the intensity, his movements remained gentle.

Next thing Sam knew, her back was pressing against the polished surface of his table; the man himself looming over her.  Face still neutral, he pulled his tight, ebony tank top over his head, revealing his rather impressive muscles. Then he was leaning down to take her lips once more, right hand gripping the back of her head to prevent her from pulling away.  In a singular motion, he was on the table with her; the wood creaking in protest while he pushed his thick thigh against her center. Funny thing was, he didn’t have to worry about his female running away one bit.

In fact, she was arching up into him, receiving what he was giving eagerly.  Soft, tantalizing moans were leaving her, only to be swallowed up by the wrestler currently above her.  With a quiet, purring noise, her shirt was gone; exposing her naked breasts to the cool air. Releasing her mouth with a feral rumble, he pulled back to ogle what he had bared.  Despite how intimate they had been yesterday, Sam felt a sudden onset of shyness. Biting her bottom lip, she curled her hands into tight fists; valiantly fighting against her innate urge to shield herself from his hungry gaze.  Yet, despite the embarrassment she felt, some part of her was flattered by the expression in his eyes.

While normally emotionless, they held an inner fire that seemed to be directly connected to her body.  Then, without any warning, he was taking her right nipple into his cold mouth. Just like the last time they had done this, a sharp gasp of surprise left her as her hands instinctually landed on the back of his head to twine her fingers with his dark locks.  Soon she was squirming beneath him; soft keens echoing off stone walls. Suddenly, her lower half was exposed; his fingers playing with her swollen labia. Yet, he made no move to further undress himself; giving her the sense he was going to perform oral on her but do nothing to satisfy himself.  Just like their first night together.

Unwilling to let things go this way, Sam moved her right hand to reach between them; dancing cautious fingers against the straining tent in his pants.  Freezing, ‘Taker’s body gave a shudder before his endless eyes locked on hers. “I don’t just want this to be about me. I get pleasure from fulfilling your needs as well,” whispered out of her, her fingers unzipping his pants before stopping.  As much as she wanted to, she would not proceed until she was sure he was okay with it. So, when he simply unfastened his pants and pulled them down, she took it as a sign of his definite consent.

Wrapping a hand around his erection, it was all should do not to pull away due to how cold his flesh was.  It was downright unnatural. Still, she wasn’t about to let this stop her. In fact, she knew if she stopped now ‘Taker would likely never forgive her.  There was a reason why he hadn’t tried to progress things past oral sex and this was likely what it was. Even a highly paid hooker would feel some instinctual disgust, something inside them telling them to stay away from this man for their own good.  She wasn’t about to hurt him like that, not with how kind he had been to her so far. So, leaning up to give him a tender kiss, she began to move her hand along him.

Every muscle inside him tensed at the same time, his breath sucking in as he seemed to freeze.  Disbelieving eyes locked on hers, a terrible hope shining in them when she kept moving her hand on what had to be a fairly painful erection by now.  Gradually, he began to relax; his fingers starting to play with her still eager womanhood. Just touching this man, giving him pleasure when no one else would had turned her insides into a hot spring that had been coiling tighter and tighter.  As soon as his fingertips brushed her clit, she was letting out a whimper while her womb clenched in anticipation.

Huffing, the Phenom kept rhythm with her movements.  When she slowed, so did he. The same was true for when she chose to go faster.  It wasn’t long before she was jerking him off for all she was worth, not daring to stop despite how fogged she was getting from the lust swirling through her body.  If she did, she had no doubt he would too; something she wasn’t really willing to test out so close to her peak. Clinging onto her wits through sheer will, Sam kept pumping the hardened rod of muscle in her hand.  Only when ‘Taker came with a roar did she stop, finally allowing her own orgasm to roll over her in a powerful wave.


	4. Sibling Rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Kane isn’t about to take all of this laying down of course. He’s about as wordy as his brother.

Glaring up at the man that was his father, Kane tightened his grip around his wattled neck ever so slightly.  Choking slightly the being simply know as Paul Bearer looked around with his beady, black eyes for any sign of help.  He wasn’t surprised when he saw nothing, especially given the fact they were deep in the bowels of the dungeons.  “Ghk!  C-can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to.  You  _ know _ that,” gurgled out of the heavyset man, well aware of the fact he was dangling several feet off the ground.  Growling, the beast dropped him; seeming to take some pleasure in the thudding sound he made.

Without sparing a glance, the hulking beast was making his way toward his own room.  A place that dwelled in a more industrial part of the underground chambers.  Rather than stone and iron bars, there were pipes and metal walkways; punctuated by swinging chains.  Opening his heavy, steel door, he walked into a horror chamber.  It was a metal square with no windows, red lights in the ceiling giving it a blood soaked appearance.  A long work bench was set up against the far wall, an ominous wooden table with shackles on it situated in the middle of the room.  Above the bench were a selection of cruel, metal instruments, all bearing some form of rust on the steel blade.

Moving toward his toys, the leather clad demon reached out with a fingerless gloved hand to touch a loong knife with a curved, serrated tip.  A low moan came from behind the leather mask before black eyes moved to the table.  Removing his mask in the privacy of the chamber, he revealed the fact he had been terribly scarred by the supposed fire that had claimed his parents and his own brother had to drag him out of.  At least that was what Paul Bearer had told him.  He didn’t remember any of it.  All he knew was that he wanted what ‘Taker had, that little female he had brought into the dungeon.  The one with such unblemished skin, such expressive eyes.

She was a blank canvas, one that begged for his specific brand of ‘attention’.  She would be a beautiful medium for his knives, her blood soaking into the wood of the table like all the others had.  At least the ones he could get to go past his door.  Every woman who passed his threshold now carried a unique mark from him.  One that would forever remind them who they belonged to despite the fact they would never return.  To have a girl he could keep without consequences, one he could personally make over at his whim...  Someone who would be his little toy to take out and play with whenever he wanted...  Just thinking about it made him shudder while his dark eyes slid closed.

The fact that his brother had that and he didn’t, it made his rage begin to rise to the surface.  Closing his hands into fists tight enough to break his skin, he gritted his teeth while his eyelids slowly lifted.  It was not fair!  ‘Taker was just as much of a monster as he was, possibly even worse.  The woman with his brother now should belong to  _ him _ .  A fact he intended to rectify as soon as he got the opportunity.  As soon as she was alone, he would swoop in and claim her.  Then, he could proceed to make her beautiful, to mark her so no one could question who she  _ really _ belonged to.  Grinning, he turned back to his workbench; sitting down at a worn chair to sharpen his weapons.  After all, they would need to be ready.

Groaning, Sam snuggled into the muscled body under hers.  Breathing in, she smelled a familiar, pleasant musk that held the slightest rotting undertone.  Opening azure eyes, she inhaled deeply as a pair of lips landed on the crown of her dark haired head.  “Good morning to you too,” she greeted, lifting her head so she could meet the eyes of her new lover.  Though, in different circumstances, she wondered just how true this label would be.  If he were anything else, women would be all over him.  As it was, he probably had more than a few interested in him before they got close enough to see he wasn’t natural.

Humming, tattooed arms wound around her; a strange look in his normally expressionless eyes.  Then his lips were landing on her forehead, the facial hair surrounding them tickling her skin and making her giggle quietly.  Reaching up a hand, he trailed cautious fingertips along her left cheek while his mouth travelled down to cover her own.  Accepting his kiss willingly, she wasn’t all that shocked when she felt him harden beneath her.  Smiling but knowing they couldn’t spend the morning having sex, she broke the liplock to give him a playfully admonishing glare.  “Maybe a bit later.  I bet fucking me isn’t the only thing you have to do today Mr. Wrestling Superstar,” she teased, getting a shameful smile in return.

Then, he was lifting her off him, placing her carefully on the floor before getting out of the coffin-bed himself.  Lifting both arms into the air, he connected his fingers together; cracking his knuckles while he stretched his tall body.  That allowed her the opportunity to realize he was very naked and she had a rather large shirt over her own, very nude form.  Squeaking in embarrassment, she began to search around for her missing clothes; feeling some measure of relief when she saw them right away.

Reaching out for her shirt, she stopped when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist.  Resting his chin between her shoulder blades, ‘Taker let out a disapproving sound.  Knowing what the problem was, she felt her smile widen just the slightest bit.  “Do you  _ really _ want Paul Bearer or your brother seeing me in nothing but a tank top of yours?” she questioned, keeping her voice sweet and teasing while she wiggled her rump against his crotch.  Letting out a possessive snarl, he released her; finally allowing her to get dressed.  A fact he wasn’t happy with given the glare he was giving her when she finished.

“Sorry ‘Taker.  I was just playing around.  I don’t want to be seen nude by those guys anymore than you want me to,” she assured, giving him a hug and resting her cheek against his abdomen.

She wasn’t all that shocked when he bent to give her a rather possessive kiss that was full of teeth.  Letting out a gruff sound, he wound his fingers into her ebony hair to keep her mouth against his.  He was so engrossed in reminded her just who she belonged to, that he didn’t hear the knock on the door.  He wasn’t even aware he had a visitor before Paul was very timidly clearing his throat for attention.  Breaking the kiss reluctantly, ‘Taker shot his assistant and father a glare that would wither flowers.  “Y-you have a match with Hogan scheduled,” he pointed out, getting a sharp nod from his ward in response.

Releasing Sam with a fair amount of reluctance, he trotted toward the closet to get his trademark trenchcoat and hat.  “Oh and... uh... Vince is, uh... giving you a new costume,” came another announcement the behemoth wasn’t so okay with.  With a shocking amount of speed, he was back across the room; giving a death glare to his assistant and father.

“It was  _ his _ call.  Said the purple wasn’t intimidating enough.  If you have an issue, take it up with McMahon,” Paul tried to deflect, his grip tightening on the urn he held.  An urn that only seemed to make an appearance during scheduled matches.  An urn that held a rather strange power over the undead wrestler.

The moment he saw it, all fight seemed to drain out of him and he was giving a slow nod.  Then, he was turning toward her; motioning for her to come to his side.  A bit stunned he still remembered her in this state, she complied; slipping her hand into his.  Closing cold fingers over hers, he placed his hat on his head with the other hand; his coat slung over the shoulder opposite to her.  Seeming surprised himself, the portly man behind them couldn’t stop staring at the pair.  As much as he hated to say it, his ‘Taker was slipping slowly out of his control.  How much longer would it be before he learned the truth?  Before the fierce warrior decided to destroy him?  It was a day he knew was coming soon and he didn’t relish it at all.

Still, it was beyond comprehension that the events were being sped along by a mere mortal female.  A being so below his ‘Taker that she should have been invisible like all the rest.  Why, why was she so different?  Why had she become inseparable from him almost immediately?  Why was his ‘Taker acting like he was human enough to have feelings for this piece of trash?  More of these questions flooded his once peaceful mind and he pursed his lips.  Movement caught the corner of his vision, drawing him out of his frustrated thoughts.  Turning his head he saw Kane.  Remembering how the odd man had reacted over the female earlier, he realized he could likely use this to his advantage if he did things just right.

As they came to the area behind his entry point, Sam became aware of the sound of the crowd beyond.  There was a large portion calling the name of the beast next to her.  Calling for him to put Hogan to rest and win this bout.  With how they reacted to her spending the night with him, she doubted they would receive her coming down the ramp with him very well.  In fact, she was almost certain they would turn hostile the instant they laid eyes on her.  All she wanted to do was go back to hide in their room, not coming out until all the hubbub had died down.  Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like her companion had such reservations.

Instead of loosening his hold to allow her to stay behind, he tugged her behind him.  Whimpering, she ducked her head in preparation of being pelted by a furious mob.  She wasn’t disappointed.  As soon as they saw her, the cheers changed to boos.  It wasn’t long after that all manner of food and drink were flung at her.  The first few hit their target spot on, making her feel lower than a grease stain on the floor.  When she felt no more, she glanced up to see ‘Taker shielding her with his own body.  Not only that, he was sending the mother of all death glares toward his ravenous audience.

Slowly, the barrage tapered off; the hisses becoming silence laden with fear.  Then, gentle hands cupped her face; forcing her to look up at him while emotionless eyes searched her for any sign of injury.  Giving a wavery smile, she kissed his gloved palm affectionately.  “I’m alright.  It was just food and styrofoam cups, nothing too serious,” she assured, getting a neutral look in return.  Yet, there was a fire burning in the back of his dead orbs.  Something that spoke of retribution.  Doing her best to soothe him as they continued toward the ring, it became fairly clear her efforts were useless.  By attempting to harm her, the audience had apparently committed an offense against him.  An offense he seemed unwilling to forgive.

Mounting the slightly raised platform, ‘Taker ducked between the multi-colored, nylon coated ropes before motioning for her.  Feeling unsure about approaching the ring and all too aware of the fact Vince was watching her fairly closely, Sam walked up hesitantly.  Paul, who was still holding the urn, frowned slightly; his jowls shuddering while he pursed his lips.  Looking from him to her lover, she was a bit shocked to see he was handing her his trenchcoat.  Reaching for the leather material, she carefully took it; resisting the urge to burrow her nose into it and inhale deeply.  Then she was taking his hat, blinking when he began to lean over the top rope toward her.  Standing on tiptoe, she met his lips with hers; whispering a ‘good luck’ as he pulled away.  Giving her a last glance, he turned to face his opponent while a loud song began to play.

It began with a guitar riff, red white and blue lights flashing to signal his entrance.  The the lyrics started, sounding like an 80’s rock ballad.  ** _ “When it comes crashing down, and it hurts inside.  Ya' gotta take a stand, it don't help to hide,” _ begins the singer, Hogan appearing while smoke billows and swims around his muscled form.

_ “If you hurt my friends, can you hurt my pride.  I gotta be a man, I can't let it slide,” _ the song continues while the ham pantomimes that he can’t hear the audience.  Equal amounts of cheers and boos greeted this action, showing just how mercurial the crowd was.

“Traitorous crowd we have tonight.  Ready to turn their backs on a favorite at a moment’s notice,” Vince pointed out, making a show of sounding vaguely disgusted with the mob.

Hogan didn’t seem to mind, simply continuing to motion to the crowd to work them into a frenzy.   _ “I am a real American.  Fight for the rights of every man,”  _ announces the song he had chosen while he tore of his shirt and went into a flex.  This, of course was meant to show off his muscles.  While this was going on, Sam had moved to an area she thought she would be safe, a corner by the announcer’s table.  Despite the proximity to Vince, it was the furthest point away from the ring besides going backstage.  Given how ‘Taker had acted earlier, she somehow doubted he would allow her to go back there without protest.

Taking her seat, she watched while the ‘Hulkster’ made his way down the ramp; the blonde hero pointing at the Phenom and shouting threats no one could really hear.  With a graceful jump, he was sliding under the bottom rope; hopping to his feet to cater to the audience a bit more.  Undertaker simply watched, unbothered and there for only one reason.  To win.  Thus far, there hadn’t been a major bout he had lost.  He had come close a few times but had risen like phoenix to reclaim what had been taken.  This time would be no different, despite the fact he was a villain in this odd world Vince had crafted.

Even the fans, who were supposed to be rooting for Hogan, were cheering for their dark savior instead.  There were even a few cries for the representation of America to ‘rest in peace’, the trademark saying Undertaker would growl out before performing his signature move; the Tombstone.  Dead eyes not moving from his opponent, the star of this show simply waited until the song ended before charging forward.  Still hamming it up for the audience, the other man never saw it coming; only realizing he had been clotheslined when he found himself suddenly on his back.  Getting back up, the red and yellow clad muscleman began to circle the outer edge of the ring, ‘Taker assuming a position in the center.

Apparently seeing no weakness in his target’s guard, Hogan was rushing forward with a hard punch.  An attack the darker male didn’t seem to even feel.  Eyes widening, the hero began to back away; shaking his head in negation while the behemoth strode toward him in a purposeful manner.  “Bit of a monster, isn’t he,” murmured a gruff baritone in her ear, making her spin her head to see a rather intimidating figure far too close to her for her comfort.  He was tall like ‘Taker, made to look sleeker because of his slicked back, black hair.  His face had been painted in a design that made her think of ‘The Crow’, the red eyes boring into her making her feel more than a bit intimidated by this figure.

“I guess some people could call him that,” whispered out of her without her control.  This seemed to make the stranger happy, his grin widening while he seemed to pull a chair out of the thin air.

“You’re not afraid of him?  Even after spending three nights with him?” he continued, the fight fading into the background while she struggled against her urge to back away from this fairly inhuman man.

Something about him made every instinct inside her scream out, yelling at her to put as much distance between her and this creature as possible.  “I am a bit afraid...  I would be a fool if I wasn’t.  But... he has treated me with nothing but the utmost of care,” came a confession she had no business giving to this person.  What happened between her and ‘Taker was private, not to be shared like tawdry gossip.

“I have no doubt he has.  Still, you must know he is not normal by now,” he continued, causing her to stare at him in a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

“None of us are normal.  None of us are really... human.  Yet, not many of us remember how we came to be here or who we really are,” came a cryptic response, making her all the more curious.

Shooting a look to Vince and seeing he was engrossed with commentating the fight, she returned her focus to the wrestler before asking some questions that had plagued her since she had come here.  “Are you all dead like he is?  What  _ are _ you?” she whispered, the sound of the crowd easily drowning her out so the men at the table to her right couldn’t hear her.

“Undertaker is a... special case.  The rest of us have a pulse and can feel pain.  As for what we are, even I am not really sure.  I only have a vague sense I don’t belong here,” he murmured, red eyes meeting hers carefully.

Frustrated he couldn’t offer any further insight, Sam sighed before shifting her gaze to assess the fight.  From the looks of it, it wouldn’t last much longer; the ‘Hulkster’ appearing to be on his last legs.  They only had a bit more time before ‘Taker saw she was talking to one of the other warriors.  With how reluctant he was to allow her to be around them, there was no telling how he would react while under the influence of the urn.  Still, she wanted to know this man’s name.  So offering her hand, she gave him a small smile.  “Name’s Sam,” she introduced, a bit startled when the hand that took hold of hers was warm.

“They call me Sting,” he responded just as Jim Ross started screaming out the finishing move.

Turning just in time to see Hogan slammed into the canvas head first, she didn’t notice the strange man taking his leave.  Not until she got to her feet and saw the chair he had once occupied was empty.  Still, she didn’t have long to ponder.  The ref was announcing the winner and ‘Taker would likely want her ringside.  Sure enough, when she turned back to head that way, he was staring at her; the emptiness of his gaze greatly disconcerting her.  Then, he was motioning to her and she found herself trotting to the side of the platform like a loyal puppy.  Handing him his coat and hat without prompting, Sam watched as he lifted the ropes so he could exit.

As soon as he was free, he was placing a hand in the small of her back; pushing her before him as they went up the ramp.  Vince was close on their heels, glaring at Paul.  The poor man was doing his best to halt his ward, the power of the urn seeming to have faded for the time being.  “Taker!  I need a word with you!” the ‘announcer’ called, finally getting the Phenom to stop just at the top of his entry point.

“Paul should have told you I have a costume change planned.  Come with me.  We gotta get you in the new outfit as soon as possible,” whispered a gruff demand, making the ‘Dead Man’ tense while some life returned to his dark eyes.  Yet, he followed; despite the fact he could easily break Vince in half.  The only question was, why hadn’t he?  What was happening here?  What was it about Vince that made all the muscle-bound men here cower in fear.  Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, Sam decided to do some investigating of her own as a soon as she was given the opportunity.

Trapped in ‘Taker’s grip while they followed the owner to his office, she began to brainstorm ways she could talk her lover into allowing her to leave the dungeon.  She didn’t really care if he accompanied her.  In fact, she expected it.  All she cared about was the opportunity to explore.  To possibly get a handle on what was happening, let alone how it was possible for a dead man to be walking around.  Looking up at her stoic partner, she sincerely hoped he would be up for the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Real American (c) Rick Derringer


	5. Questions Best not Asked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer #3: I don’t own and have never met Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart. This is fiction, just for fun and no profit will be made from it.
> 
> Author’s Note: Taker may be a tad... overprotective.

Soft breaths filled the stone chamber, the smaller figure on top shifting lazily while blue eyes slowly opened.  Waking up cuddled up to one of the biggest names in the world was still a bit surreal. Not to mention the environment surrounding her.  Every moment she was here, she was expecting to wake up at home; all of it having been an odd dream. Kissing a goateed chin, she couldn’t help but smile when his ebony eyes opened to meet hers.  “Morning you. You did great yesterday,” she praised, doing her best to hide just how nervous she was. Unfortunately, ‘Taker wasn’t fooled in the least.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he was lifting her from the casket bed; setting her on her feet before getting out himself.  Raising a brow, he crossed his bulging, tattooed arms across his chest. Knowing she had been caught, Sam rubbing the back of her head like a guilty child; avoiding his dark gaze while shuffling her bare feet against the stones.  “I... I wanted to go out to see some of the other wrestlers. Find out a bit about the men I’m going to be around for the rest of my natural life,” came a simple request.

“No,” growled the response she had both expected and feared.  Then he was turning his back, heading to the table in the center of the room like the discussion had ended.

Nibbling her lower lip, she gathered her courage before following him.  “You can’t expect me to want to stay in this room for the rest of my life.  Besides, it would give me an opportunity to decide for myself who’s dangerous and who isn’t,” she pleaded, hated how whiny she sounded.  She wasn’t all that encouraged when it felt like she might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

“Not all of them can be as bad as you think.  I mean, Sting seemed to be alright,” she blurted, her hands clamping over her mouth the instant the words were out of her mouth.

In an instant, he was back on his feet; towering over her with a glower on his intimidating visage.  “He introduced himself yesterday, during your fight. He said a few things that perked my interest. I just want an opportunity to figure out what’s happening here.  Maybe even make a few friends,” reasoned a small voice that almost didn’t sound like her own while she struggled to meet his gaze. After a few moments, he slumped; sighing as he gave a reluctant nod.  Apprehension replaced with joy, she nearly tackled the behemoth in her joy; planting a noisy kiss on his bristly cheek.

Punk, Rock and Hogan were having a spirited discussion when the thinnest among them spotted a certain superstar.  “Don’t look now guys but the ice king has allowed his pet a bit of time among us lower beings,” the wiry troublemaker whispered, a genuine smile on his goateed face despite the harshness of his words.

“And you’re hanging out with someone like Rock here?” teased the flaxen haired male to his right, getting a glare from the bronze skinned fighter across from him.

Before any of them could move Sting was stalking past the trio, leveling Punk in particular with a scowl.  Then he was heading off the pair, narrowing his eyes at the wrestler that towered above him. “Glad you at least came with her.  I’m sure you already know just who’s itching to cause problems,” murmured his raspy baritone, crimson eyes flicking down to briefly land on Sam.  At the moment, she was safely ensconced in ‘Taker’s arms; making it a wonder she could breathe at all. A soft rumble was the only response, the muscles around her tensing briefly.

“Easy, I don’t think he wants to hurt me,” she assured, getting a doubtful scowl before the cage of flesh around her loosened.

“Yeah, we’re as harmless as can be,” chirped a smarmy mid-tone that was beginning to spell trouble.  Not only did the ‘Dead Man’ shove her bodily behind himself, but Sting also placed himself in the way; getting ready for a fight.

Peeking around the built wall of her lover, she saw none other than the cocky male that called himself C.M. Punk.  Yet, despite how apprehensive the others were, he seemed all bark and very little bite. While he wanted to get ‘Taker’s dander up, she highly doubted he was going to do anything to outright hurt her.  “Stand down boys,” sighed her weary voice as she stepped around the pair that were insisting on protecting her. Ignoring their attempts to stop her, she held a hand out to the lithe but built man in front of her.

“Nice to see you again,” chimed a greeting that hung in the air.

Blinking, the self made mischief maker found himself a bit stunned at the genuine offer of friendship.  Pursing his lips, he gripped her hand briefly before retracting his wrapped appendage. “Same here. You already met Hulkster and Rock.  Guess all that leaves is Heartbreak Kid, Triple H and Hitman,” he found himself responding before leading her deeper into the massive room.  A room that appeared to be a gathering area of sorts. All manner of costumed men lingered in various spots, all seeming to lack a certain life that the others had possessed.  It was almost like they were background extras or something, making an unpleasant shiver crawl down her spine.

As they got closer to a table in the back of the room, she was forced to focus on the strangers conversing around it.  Seeing them coming, a sandy haired man on the end of the table got to his feet; revealing the fact he was wearing black and white pants emblazoned with a broken heart sigil.  Giving her a suave smile, he offered his hand to Sam. “Name’s Heartbreak Kid. What’s yours my little kitten,” purred his mid-tone as he pulled her closer. Ignoring the displeased noises of ‘Taker, who was still several feet behind her, she gave a falsely simpering smile at the stranger.

“My name is none of your business until you learn how to properly respect me.  Besides, I’m with  _ him _ ; hotpants,” hissed her voice, taking a vicious turn as she began to practically crush his hand while she gestured to Undertaker with the other.

Letting out a cry of pain, he yanked himself free; cursing quietly while she and Punk continued on to the other two.  Acting like nothing happened, a man clad in pink and black offered his hand after removing thick shades so he could meet her gaze.  Brown orbs sparked from under curly, black locks as she clasped his hand, receiving a kind smile in return. “Name’s Hitman,” he husked out in a lightly accented voice before releasing her.  The bearded man next to him simply watched, a rather severe expression on his chiseled face.

“I don’t see any need to introduce myself to some whore who likely doesn’t give a shit about the man Vince gave her to,” growled out a voice that sounded like the very plates of the Earth rubbing together.

Before Sam could respond, ‘Taker had closed the distance; murder clear in his bottomless gaze.  Getting to his feet, the brunette flung the table out of the way; upper lip lifting to reveal his teeth.  “H!” Sting called out, voice holding a hint of command. Tensing his jaw, Triple H stood down reluctantly; nostrils flaring.

“She may have  _ you _ fooled but it’ll take more than an innocent face to convince me she’s not some trap Vince has set!  You  _ know _ what he’s like!  We  _ all _ do!” hissed the tanned, half clothed man, dark eyes landing on Sam for a split second.

In a swift motion, the Phenom had the other fighter by the throat; his eyes burning with a deadly emotionlessness.  With a quick snap, he could end this other person’s life and not think anything more of it. In this moment, he well and truly was a monster.  Yet, Samantha was moving toward him; grabbing the arm holding Triple H in a loose grip. Dead, shark-like eyes met hers, making fear slither down her spine.  “Don’t, please...,” whispered her meek voice, every atom in her body screaming at her to run away.

Seeming to contemplate her words, he slowly released the brunette’s neck.  “Thank you,” Sam whispered before moving between the two giants to prevent any further conflict.

“I can’t say anything to convince you of my innocence but I just ask you let my actions speak for me.  I’m not who you think I am,” she murmured, leaning into the man behind her to help diffuse him just a bit further.

Almost immediately, well built, tattooed arms were wrapping around her protectively.  Unimpressed, Triple H glared at the small woman before shaking his head. Without another word, he stormed out of the room; shoving past one of the people that seemed to be not quite there despite the fact they were very solid.  “Don’t mind him. He’s been cuckolded by Vince more than once and I think he’s afraid to let anyone near his heart ever again,” Punk explained, brow furrowed.

“Really?  Is McMahon really that awful?” whispered the stunned female, blue eyes sparkling with sympathy and fury.  As far as she was concerned, messing with someone’s feelings was the height of scummy behavior.

“Darlin’, you don’t know the half of it.  He’s done some fucked up things just for the audience.  Even going so far as so have H rape a dead body,” Heartbreak sighed, a disgusted grimace on his handsome features.

Shuddering, she found herself glad she had only recently started to follow wrestling.  If she had seen half of what Vince had forced on these men, she would have been far too disgusted to attend a match in person.  As it was, she was beginning to understand just why ‘Taker was so apprehensive whenever the man had been around. So far, the Dead Man had shown no chinks in his emotional armor.  Until  _ she _ had come along.  Feeling unsettled, Sam found herself wanting to change the subject.  “So... what’s the story with the guys milling around here. They seem a bit... different,” she blurted, taking everyone by surprise.

“Because they’re not really alive.  Whatever we are, they are something different.  They are simply used in fights, to be thrown away and reused as a different character the next time,” growled a voice to her left, drawing her attention to Sting.

“Some of us used to be like them.  Just waiting for a missing piece of ourselves to come back.  Odd thing was, the more the audience cheered for us; the more we became what we are now,” he continued, seeming to know more about what was happening than any of the others.

“There were only a few exceptions.  Undertaker, myself and Triple H,” murmured his raspy voice, crimson eyes fixing on her own.

“I was among the first,” growled from above her, drawing her gaze to the man currently shielding her with his own arms.

“So was I and I  _ still _ do not remember just what I am.  Just that I am not supposed to be in this reality,” Sting responded, glaring up at the slightly taller man beside him.

Frowning slightly, Sam rubbed the Phenom’s lower arms soothingly as she mulled over everything that had been said and what it implied.  Just as she had thought, there was a lot more going on under the surface here. Unfortunately, she was no closer to figuring out what it was or why ‘Taker seemed to be more dead than the rest of them.  The only person would did was Vince and he would likely be unwilling to share, even with her being stuck in this crazy place. Feeling frustrated, she leaned back into her lover; enjoying his scent despite the rotting undertone.

While she was distracted, Punk began to move away from the group; a thoughtful expression on his goateed visage.  He remembered the most of this bunch despite the fact he was the most recent. Maybe it had to do with who he really was.  Who he  _ had _ been before he had been brought here.  Yet, he wasn’t sure he should share what he remembered with the others.  The last thing he wanted was to be reset like anyone else that had gotten too close to the truth.  He had no idea who was loyal to Vince and he had to watch his step.

Only noticing his absence some time later, Sam made a mental note to pursue him later.  Maybe, just maybe, there was something he was trying to hide. For the moment however, she was all too glad to disappear back to the ‘dungeon’ with ‘Taker.  Meeting all these men and learning as much as she had was exhausting. Not being all that social, all she wanted was some peace and quiet. A moment to relax.  A fact her partner seemed to sense. In a sudden movement, she was scooped up into his arms and they were heading back to the sanctuary of his room.

As soon as they were past his door, he was setting her on her feet before shedding his trenchcoat and hat.  Realizing they were alone, the massive man seemed to relax; a weary expression crossing his goateed face. “I imagine that was a tad more hectic than you’re used to,” Sam observed, taking a seat while her own tension drained out of her muscles.  A chuff from the fighter across from her told her his exact feelings on the matter.

“I just hope you’re willing to do it every so often.  I like a few of the wrestlers I met today and would like to get to know them just a bit better,” she murmured, laying across the table while her companion took a seat close to her.

Giving her a skeptical glance, he simply gave a nod before pulling her into his lap and nuzzling into her hair.  “Just be careful around C.M. Punk and H. Punk likes to cause trouble and H... he just doesn’t like anyone,” grumbled his worried response while his lips rested on the crown of her head.

“I don’t think Punk will hurt me.  Though he might flirt with me just to rile  _ you _ up,” she pointed out playfully, earning a low snarl from the man she was sitting on.

Giggling, she leaned back so she she could look up at the fighter she had fallen in love with so quickly.  Pursing his lips, he rubbed his nose along hers affectionately before taking her lips in a gentle but possessive kiss.  Teeth nibbled at her lips between swipes of his tongue, a guttural noise escaping him while his right hand came to settle on her lower stomach.  After endless moments, he pulled away to allow her a single gulp of air. “Mine,” husked out of him before he was taking command of her mouth once more.

Breaking the liplock with a gasp, Sam panted while he began to nibble her neck; his facial hair scratching pleasantly against her skin.  “Of course I’m yours. You’re the only one I want,” husked quick assurances while his hands lifted her shirt to explore the expanse of her torso.  Eventually, they settled over her bra; a displeased sound issuing from above her and making her chuckle.

“Didn’t think you’d want me to show off the girls to just anyone,” purred a good point before he was dipping his hands into the lacy cups to play with her sensitive nipples.

Aware of the hardness growing under her butt, she ground daringly against the bulge; moaning when he rewarded her with a pinch to her buds.  Teeth settled on the nape of her neck as he began to grind into her, soft rumbles bubbling from deep inside his chest. With a quick motion, he was tearing the restrictive garment from her chest; his breaths becoming hot and heavy while his movements became more insistent.  Both hands now encompassed her breasts, callused fingers dancing over erect nodules of flesh. Quiet, animalistic noises came from Sam, her insides turning into a hot magma from the electricity seeming to arc between them.

Something unknown to both of them was craving this union, only adding fuel to the wildfire building between them.  Soon, he was tearing off her shirt; his hands moving down to rest on her hips while his thighs shuddered under her.  Taking a moment to catch her breath, she gave a nod with a feeling of apprehension. While he had already taken her hymen on their first night together, this was her first time taking a man.  As if sensing her nerves, ‘Taker’s hold relaxed as his kisses became less urgent and more gentle. Smiling, she took in a breath before moving to get off him.

While his endless eyes burned into her, Samantha slid her jeans over her hips; taking her panties with them.  Despite the fact he had seen her naked twice before, she still felt self conscious. Especially when he got to his feet, easily towering over her as he slowly approached her.  Lifting his shirt over his head slowly, he smirked when he noticed she had flushed a bright pink. Now only wearing his tight wrestling pants, ‘Taker reached for her cheek before leaning down to rest his forehead against hers.  It was like he was doing his best to set her at ease, making her smile despite her extreme amount of nervousness.

Letting out a shaky breath, she reached out to undo the button of his jeans; the sound of his zipper going down seeming very final.  Forcing her breathing to remain steady, she reached out to take the cold flesh in her hands; more prepared for the temperature after the last time.  Despite knowing very little about him, she instinctually trusted this man. So, taking a deep breath, she began to move her hand slowly. Like before, the man in front of her stiffened; his breathing hitching like he could barely believe she was deigning to touch him.  Soon, however, he was reaching down to stop her motions; his dark orbs holding a deep hunger in them.

Nibbling her lower lip, she stood on tiptoes to kiss under his hairy chin while his large hands settled over her back.  Slowly, one of his hands travelled to her left thigh; lifting it so it wrapped around him. This, of course, allowed his impressive erection to press directly against her hot and eager core.  For days, she had been anticipating this; the connection between them only making this moment sweeter. As he thrust against her, something began to tickle in the back of her head. Something like a memory.  Flashes of a bloody river and a boat made of bones and half rotted bodies. Wretched things that seemed to be alive despite their desiccated condition.

A name passed her lips, one that did not belong to her partner.  Yet, it seemed right as every muscle in his body went tense. Picking up her other thigh, he made sure she had a tight grip with her legs before wrapping both arms around her waist.  Moving to a stone wall, he seemed to relish the surprised squeak she made when her back pressed against the icy surface. Nosing into the crook of her neck, he used his weight against her to hold her in place while he removed one hand to position himself.  Feeling him nudging at her hot entrance with his unnatural flesh, Sam leaned into the contact instead of shying away. Meeting his eyes with hers, she let out a lusty moan as he slowly slid into her.

While she was stretched almost uncomfortably, it felt like two halves making a whole.  Like their very souls were meeting again after a long and unwanted separation. Dark eyes widening, ‘Taker husked out a name that was not hers but felt right all the same.  Cupping her cheek while blood tainted tears ran down his white cheeks, he began to move as his lips descended over hers. Gasping into his cool mouth, she rested her hands on his clammy back while he began a slow, torturous rhythm.

Despite begging for him to go faster, he seemed determined to take his time; to savor the moment.  Huffing through his nose while his hips gyrated in a maddening manner, he shook his ebony locks out of his face so he could look into her eyes.  Then she was slowly tipping over the edge, only the feeling of ‘Taker’s arms keeping her anchored to reality while she floated. Feeling something warm fill her insides, she felt herself shudder as some part of her hoped she would get pregnant.  “I love you,” husked out of her as she dozed in and out of consciousness, the feeling of the giant above her shuddering in the aftermath putting a smile on her face.

“I love you too Sam,” rasped a breathless response before she was swept up into his arms and they were both lying in his coffin bed.  Closing her eyes while she cuddled into his naked chest, she allowed herself to drift off into a very deep and peaceful sleep.


	6. Unwanted Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Punk begins hanging around the dungeons much to ‘Taker’s dismay.

Opening her eyes, Sam found the names from last night lingering on the fringes of her mind.  Yet, she couldn’t recall what either of them were. Just that they were important in some unknown way.  Rubbing her temples as she felt a headache begin to surface, she jumped slightly when she felt a pair of cool lips press against her forehead.  Tilting her head up, she smiled when her eyes met those of ‘Taker. “Morning,” husked out of him before she could say anything, leaving her feel just a bit stunned.  Normally, she was the more talkative one. The man she now lived with much prefered to show how he felt through actions as well as body language.

“Good morning,” whispered out of her as he was lifting her out of the coffin bed to set her on the cold, stone floor.

Smiling gently, the massive man gestured to the full table before moving to take his seat.  Things having returned to the status quo for the time being, the young woman took her own seat before filling her plate with some of the food that had been laid out before them.  After their activities last night, she was starving; a fact that seemed to amuse her silent partner. Giving him a slightly shameful grin, she picked up a piece of bacon when a rather rhythmic knock came from the closed, steel door.

Looking as surprised as she felt, the Phenom was on his feet; boots thudding on the stone as he made his way to the entry.  Opening it slightly, a glare slammed over his goateed face before trying to close it again. Unfortunately, their visitor had other plans.  Shoving his way into the room like he belonged there was C.M. Punk, a proud smile on his scruffy face as he strode toward the table. “Hey Sammy!   Nice spread,” he greeted with a wave before pulling up ‘Taker’s vacated chair and picking up a rather juicy looking sausage.

Murderous expression on his face, the current face of the company stormed over to the intruder; picking him up by the skin tight, black tank top he wore to snarl in his face.  Amused and frightened at the same time, Samantha ran to ‘Taker; placing a hand on his right bicep. “Hey, take it easy partner! I don’t mean any harm. Just thought the little lady could use some more... verbal company,” came an explanation that did nothing to help the situation.  Glare intensifying, the behemoth made his way back to the door. Likely wanting to just dump the unwanted visitor outside and be done with it.

Sensing this, Punk only grinned wider; mischief gleaming in his green eyes.  “Put me outside and I’ll just knock til ya let me back in. I’m not on the mat today and I’m bored.  After all these years, you should know exactly what that means,” came a half threat, the lithe male still seeming jovial in the face of such extreme fury.  Tensing and tightening his grip on the other man’s shirt, Undertaker seemed ready to just snap his neck and be done with it. The only thing that seemed to stop him was the female that was still clinging to him.  The woman that was, even now, looking up at him with wide, blue eyes.

Slowly, reluctantly, he set his long time rival back on the ground.  Clearing his throat and making a show of straightening his tank top, Miz gave the man towering over him a rather playful smile.  “There ya go. Knew ya’d see reason,” purred out of him in a satisfied tone before he was making his way back to the table. Letting out a low growl, ‘Taker looked at the woman beside him as if to ask if he could just kill the man.  Giving him a consolatory pat on the arm, she shook her head before making her way toward their unexpected and unwanted visitor.

“Punk...  Must you always rile him up?” she admonished as she resumed her seat and began to eat.  Still glaring, her lover came to stand behind her; placing both hands on her shoulders.

“Up until recently, nothing got a rise out of this guy.  He just went through his day without interacting with anyone, only coming out of this hole when called by Vince,” he responded, taking a bite of the sausage he had been holding before ‘Taker had tried to throw him back through the door.

Not surprised by this bit of information, Sam simply took hold of her lover’s right hand; pressing a kiss on top of the knuckles.  “And don’t think I’m the only one that’s noticed. Vince has eyes everywhere and I’ll bet my bottom dollar he’s already plotting something,” the man across from her advised around his mouthful of food, his eyes meeting the ones of the star behind her.  With the way he tensed his hands, she could tell he was both pissed and worried.

“I guess we’ll just have to deal with it when it comes.  How bad could it really be?” she murmured, having pushed away the story of Triple H being forced to rape a dead body as a massive exaggeration.

When Punk got a grim expression on his face, she began to feel the slightest bit uneasy.  A fact that wasn’t helped when ‘Taker simply lifted her from her seat, taking her place and putting her in his lap.  Protective, tattooed arms wound around her, a bristly chin settling to the left of her neck. “Hun... You didn’t watch a lot of wrestling before ya came here did ya...,” the man across from her murmured, setting down his food as he seemed to lose his appetite.

“But...  Surely it was all just for show,” she protested, despite the fact she already had a suspicion this place was beyond any law made by man.  Some part of her just didn’t want to believe Vince could get away with forcing such atrocities on men that worked under him. Then again, she was getting the feeling more and more that these weren’t any ordinary men she was dealing with.

After the encounter in the ‘common room’, she was beginning to get the feeling that something a lot more supernatural was going on here.  A supposition that sounded ridiculous, even to someone like her. While she believed in ghosts and maybe some forms of witchcraft, she had a hard time believing such practices were anything but fruitless.  Time and again, she had seen nothing result from spells or attempts to raise the dead. Yet, not much else could explain the shades of men that were milling around; seeming almost to not be real. “No... Its all too real and he has done terrible things to a lot of us for the sake of money.  Unfortunately, there are too many people that are watching that are okay with it being real,” sighed a sickened mid-tone, effectively jolting her out of her thoughts.

“And, while he may be able to protect you when you’re down here, he can’t protect you from the man who rules us.  His nuts are in as much of a vice as the rest of us,” continued some rather colorful advice that made her lose whatever appetite she’d had as well.

Pushing away the plate, she instinctually leaned back into the man she was sitting on.  “And Vince ain’t the only one you gotta worry about either. I doubt either Paul Bearer or Kane are okay with your presence,” he continued with a sour expression before he was pulling out a cigarette.  Lighting a match, he took a deep drag before breathing out fragrant smoke. Shuddering, Sam didn’t have to ask what he meant. Reaching across the table, she gestured for the cig; surprising both her lover and the man across from her.  Looking up at ‘Taker and only getting a blank look, Punk shrugged before reaching into his pack to get her a fresh one. Silently, he passed her the white cylinder as well as his lighter.

Placing the filter between her lips, Sam snapped the lighter to life to light the end.  It had been years since she had done this so she took the smallest puff she could possibly manage.  Taking the smoke into her lungs and holding for a second, she closed her eyes as she felt the familiar sensation of nicotine rushing through her bloodstream.   Exhaling with a light cough, she shuddered as the old buzz hummed through her limbs. “Christ...,” she uttered after a moment, leaning back into the warrior she was sitting on for comfort.

A large hand began to run through her dark hair in response, the unsteadiness of his fingers telling her everything she needed to know.  While she could be with him for most of the day, there  _ would _ be times where she would be forced to be alone.  Her only hope was to make as many friends among these men as possible.  The more eyes watching, the better chance of her being rescued if something  _ did _ happen.  Unfortunately, it was at that moment a knock came from the heavy, metal door.

Jolting from the noise, Sam found herself on the floor and shielded by two rather tall men,  While Punk wasn’t nearly as muscular as the rest, his lack of bulk would likely work in his advantage; allowing him to move faster than the others.  Narrowing his eyes, ‘Taker looked at the man to his left before seeming to come to a decision. With a nod to himself, the Phenom strode toward the door to open it.  None of them were surprised to see Paul Bearer on the other side. Beady eyes moving briefly over the other people in the room, the overweight assistant returned his focus to the man that was his ward.  “We have a match today. Vince wants to use it as an opportunity to show off your new uniform,” he informed.

Narrowing his eyes, ‘Taker’ motioned to Sam; not seeming to mind when Punk accompanied her across the room.  Then the trio were heading down the twisted, red tinted halls that led to the stairs. As they passed the opening that led to Kane’s part of the dungeon, the masked man suddenly appeared; eyes narrowing behind the dark holes in his disguise.  Turning to face his brother, ‘Taker’ silently pushed Sam along behind him; trusting Punk to keep an eye on her for him. Seeming to sense this, the troublemaker moved her toward the stairs while the pair of giants faced off silently.

Turning to give the pair a cautious glance, the lithe male shook head before proceeding to escort her to the ground level.  “Seems he holds more of a grudge than I thought. I’ll have to tell the fellas to help keep an eye on things. Thankfully, you already seem to have Sting on your side.  Never seen him so protective of someone in the entire time I’ve been here,” he murmured as they came up in the hall that led to the backstage area.

“There’s also you, big guy,” she pointed out playfully, chuckling when he turned his head to raise a brow at her.

Considering her words for a moment, he chuckled before shaking his head and reaching to ruffle her dark hair.  “Yeah, I guess so. Already kinda see ya as a kid sister,” admitted his amused mid-tone as she flailed at him. Chuckling, he pulled her in for a good natured noogie before releasing her.  Smoothing her mussed, ebony hair, she startled when she felt protective arms wrap around her to yank her backwards against a warm body. Knowing it couldn’t be Undertaker yet, she looked up to see Sting towering over her.

“Th’Hell’re ya doin’ with her alone?” hissed out of the crimson eyed warrior, black lips lifted to bare his teeth.

“Its okay.  ‘Taker knows he’s with me,” she assured quickly, hoping to circumvent a fight from happening.  Thankfully, her would be protector relaxed just slightly; still glowering at the male across from him.

Punk simply held his hands up with the palms facing forward, a smirk on his goateed face.  “Its the truth. Besides, you know I don’t mean any  _ real _ harm.  Most I wanna do is rile the dead man up a bit.  He’s been like a walking corpse for so long, can ya really blame me?” came his very flawed reasoning.  Yet, Sam giggled; shaking her head as she gently pulled away from the wrestler behind her.

“Keep looking for trouble and ‘Taker will probably kill you,” she pointed out, disturbed to find she was only half joking.  Still, after all she had seen, she wouldn’t be surprised if just that happened.

Huffing out an amused noise, the lithe fighter shook his head while grinning.  “Nah, he’d punch my lights out for sure but outright murder? That’s more his brother’s territory.  Believe it or not, ‘Taker isn’t really the violent type. Not unless he’s protecting something,” came a fairly good point that helped her feel worlds better.  With as much trouble as Punk seemed to be, she still liked him and didn’t want to see anything bad happen to him.

“Still, I wouldn’t want to see what he would do if you were ever in  _ real _ danger,” he continued, looking genuinely nervous.

Given what she already knew about her mostly silent companion, she wasn’t really surprised by any of this.  She was one of the few he reacted to and the only woman he had ever taken to the dungeon below. Despite not knowing much about one another, there was already a deep trust between them.  There was also the fact that she might genuinely love him and couldn’t imagine a life without him anymore. The sound of boots approaching from her right brought her back to the present and she turned to see her lover coming up from below, followed closely by his glowering brother.

Backing toward Sting out of instinct, she kept her eyes on the masked figure as he made his way around his sibling.  Shooting her a glower, the masked fighter made his way to the ring while Undertaker moved toward Sam. Examining her for any sign of injury, he looked from one wrestler to the other.  Narrowing dark eyes at his make-up wearing rival, he stood by her side but didn’t touch her. Sighing and shaking his head, the crimson eyed man turned and walked away. Watching him for a few moments, she looked up at the headliner that was towering over her.

While some part of her wondered just what had happened between the two to breed so much distrust, she knew better than to try asking.  At best she would get no answer. At worst, he would get pissed just thinking about it and would get all protective again. Just the fact he had trusted her with another man was a huge step in the right direction.  She didn’t want to risk losing such massive progress. So she simply reached over to take his hand in hers, pushing away her burning curiosity for some other time. Thankfully, he closed his fingers over hers; seeming to relax almost immediately.

Seeing that as the signal to take his leave, Punk wandered away; whistling as he went.  Unaware of the fact he had left, Samantha stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his chin.  Melting into the contact, ‘Taker moved his head so she was kissing his lips instead; wrapping his tattooed arms loosely around her.  Suddenly, there was an inhuman screeching coming from somewhere backstage. Pulling away from the fighter, Sam looked off in the direction of the noise; knowing full well what was causing it.  “Mankind,” she whispered, shuddering slightly. Of all the men she had met so far, he was the one that intimidated her the most. In fact, he seemed less human than even Undertaker.

“Just what’s wrong with him?” she whispered to herself, wondering how a human being could be so feral.

“No one really knows.  He’s just always been like that since the day he appeared,” came a reply she hadn’t really expected from above her.

Nodding slightly, she furrowed her brow while her curiosity intensified.  As much as she hated to admit it, it was just more evidence that something beyond nature and human comprehension was happening here.  Unfortunately, there was no sign she was any closer to figuring it out. A fact that more than frustrated her. Sighing, she simply stood by her partner’s side while the lights dimmed and his entry music began to play.  Placing her hand in his, she walked down the ramp to the ring with her head held high. Thankfully, this time, no one decided to throw anything at her as soon as she made an appearance.

Keeping her focus on the ring in front of them, she felt her blood run cold when she saw not only Kane was in the center but Triple H as well.  Looking up at the man known as the ‘Phenom’, she couldn’t help but wonder if he would really be okay. Two against one seemed a bit unfair, even  _ with _ how strong Undertaker seemed.  The fact he was smiling at her didn’t help her feel much better.  Hearing footsteps behind them, she turned to see Paul Bearer heading toward them at a fast clip; the urn tight under his arm.

The fact his ward seemed to not need the mysterious object disconcerted the overweight male, a panicked look in his piggy eyes.  Holding up the funerary container, he locked gazes with the much taller man. Just like before, all emotions fled his eyes for something dark and cold.  Something almost evil. Fighting back her instinctual fear, she tightened her grip on his hand; keeping pace with him while the assistant led them to the mat.  Giving him a kiss for luck, she took his coat and hat before taking what was becoming her usual seat. She hadn’t sat down for five minutes when another inhuman scream echoed through the crowded stadium.

Head turning in the direction the noise had come from, she felt genuine fear descend over her when she saw Mankind barreling toward the ring.  Shooting a glare toward Vince, she returned her focus to what was happening. She didn’t notice the knowing smirk the disguised owner gave her in response.  Cold eyes were focused on her expression in particular, a cruel gleam of amusement dancing in their dark depths. Just like Miz had feared, the wheels were already turning; especially when he noticed Sting heading towards her.

Like Undertaker, the painted man hadn’t really reacted to much around him.  In fact, he’d gone out of his way to avoid having any sort of relationships whatsoever.  Until Samantha. Couple that with the fact the two titans already had a bitter history orchestrated by him and fireworks could fly if he played his cards right.  Still, he would allow thing to play out as they were for a bit longer. After all, something interesting was bound to happen without his help. Besides, the longer he allowed ‘Taker and the woman to bond; the better the conflict would be.

Oblivious to all of this, Sam watched in horror as Mankind tackled her lover to the canvas.  “It may look bad but not much can really hurt him,” assured a gentle baritone in her ear. Briefly turning her head, she was relieved to see Sting standing over her.

“Yeah, I guess.  I still can’t help but worry.  Especially since he’s fighting against so many,” she replied, drawing in a gasp when Kane joined in the melee.

It was then she noticed Paul Bearer was heading toward them.  Deep set, ebony eyes settled on her, his mustache twitching while his fingers tensed on the urn he was holding.  “You should go back below,” he suggested in his unnaturally high voice, shifting foot to foot almost nervously. Narrowing her eyes and frankly smelling a rat, she shook her head.

“No matter how hard it gets to watch, I’ll stay here.  Besides, I don’t intend on going anywhere without ‘Taker,” she informed, narrowing her eyes at the ghoul in front of her.  She wasn’t surprised when his falsely friendly expression turned sour.

Turning his back, he stomped away like a child denied a sweet; sending a chill down her spine.  Miz’s words echoed in her head, her heart cramping in her chest while a cold sweat settled over her skin.  Rubbing her arms, she forced herself to focus on what was happening in the roped off square located in the center of the room.  To her surprise, her lover seemed to be winning. Even with the odds against him. Watching with wide eyes, she shot to her feet and cheered with the crowd when he threw the three men off him like they weighed nothing.


	7. An Underhanded Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!: Torture and blood.
> 
> Author’s Note: Neither Kane or Paul Bearer are nice people...

After what seemed like an eternity, the battle was over.  ‘Taker had barely managed to win, sustaining more than a few injuries during the scuffle.  Just the fact the seemingly invincible man was bleeding from his lip as well as several gashes disturbed Sam.  In an instant, she was on her feet; heading to ringside with his hat and coat in her arms. His name on her lips, she was stunned when he leaned under the top rope to give her an almost vicious kiss.  Teeth nipped roughly at her lower lip, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth to tangle with her own. Eager fingers tangled in her hair, tightening painfully as he let out a low snarl.

Tasting blood while her heart pounded in her ears, the trapped woman froze for a few seconds; unsure of how to respond to the unexpected assault.  With a cautious hand, she cupped a stubbled cheek as she began to respond. Melting into the contact, the Phenom’s embrace lightened until all his violence had faded for tenderness.  After a few moments, he pulled away; a shocked expression on his pale visage. Giving him an unsteady smile, she shook her head once to show there had been no harm done.

Offering his trademark trench-coat and wide brim hat, she couldn’t help but notice Paul Bearer giving her the mother of all stink eyes.  Obviously still angry about her earlier rebuff, he was glowering at her like she had committed the worst sin he had ever seen. He was so focused, he didn’t even notice his ward was making his way toward him.  It was only when the urn was taken from under his right arm that he finally noticed anything was happening at all. Letting out a squawk of indignation, he spun to give the thief a chewing out. When he saw Undertaker glowering down at him, he visibly shrank away.

Narrowing his bottomless eyes, the towering warrior clutched the obviously precious object while making his way back to Samantha.  As soon as he got close enough, he was dropping the cool, metal cylinder into her upturned palms. Eyes widening, the stunned femme took in a deep breath before looking up to meet his eyes.  Quirking the right corner of his mouth, the much taller man turned on his booted heel and began to head backstage. Vince was on his feet and following him, his jaw set with rage.

Wondering what the problem was, Sam simply shook her head.  Maybe it would be best to make her way to the room she shared with Undertaker.  She had no idea how long Vince would chew him out, let alone why the manager was pissed in the first place.  Besides, she had to get the urn to safety as soon as possible. While she didn’t know what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands, she had no real desire to find out.  So, with a wave to Sring, she walked toward the ramp ‘Taker and Vince had used just moments earlier.

The much shorter manager was already in his talent’s face, spittle flying from his lips while he screamed.  As far as she could tell, ‘Taker was supposed to lose the last fight. Feeling more than appalled at the very notion of the mighty wrestler taking a dive, she made her way quickly toward the stairs.  Sting, who had been close behind for most of the journey, had suddenly disappeared between reaching the backstage and entering the dungeon. Finding herself alone, Sam immediately felt her courage leave her.  It was very possible that Kane was down there. Without his imposing brother, it was likely the masked brute would do something horrible to her.

Looking down at the metal container she was holding, she let out a defeated sigh before glaring back down the stairs with a look of determination.  No matter what, she had to protect this urn. Even now, Paul Bearer was making his way toward her; his jaw set as he moved. Giving one, last look to ‘Taker and seeing Sting had been dragged into the fight by Vince; she began to feel the thread of suspicion begin to wind around her heart.  Something about all of this was too convenient. Almost like a... Just as the thought finished, a rough hand was covering her mouth and she was yanked into the darkness of the dungeon.

Cackling quietly, Paul followed; waddling his way down the stairs until he caught up to his other ward.  “Told you Vince wouldn’t mind helping. Just expect to be in a fight with your brother either tomorrow or the next day,” cooed his abnormally high voice before he was reaching out for the urn.  Glaring down at the squat assistant, she bit down hard on the hand over her mouth while kicking out at the man below her. Next thing she knew, her backside was hitting the solid concrete. Not taking the time to question what was happening, Sam made a break for their room.  Once inside, she would at least have a heavy, metal door between her and her assailants. Not to mention the fact the urn would be safe too.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before the two men were in hot pursuit.  Gasping in breaths through her sore lungs, she made a quick decision. Flinging open the door a crack, she rolled the urn inside before shutting it again.  While Paul was desperate to get it back from her, she highly doubted he would be dumb enough to go in ‘Taker’s room for it. In fact, the overweight man was rarely allowed over the threshold.  If he was discovered in there without permission, it was likely the consequences wouldn’t be good. The look on his face when she turned back around to face the pair told her all she needed to know.

The fat, short man was fuming, his soft skin jiggling while the pale skin on his face turned red.  Pursing his lips, he simply pointed at her with a shaking, pudgy hand. With a sickening, growling noise that sounded like a dog trying to laugh, Kane bent to fling her over his right shoulder.  Kicking and squirming, Sam scrabbled at his rock hard shoulder with the heels of her hands. Opening her mouth and taking in a deep breath to scream for help, she let out a grunt of pain when the arm gripping around her waist squeezed.  All her air left her in a wheezy huff and she felt the beginnings of terror begin to blossom inside her.

Baring her teeth, she increased her efforts to get free.  Whatever was planned, it couldn’t be good. In a vicious striking motion, she bit the beast’s ear; drawing a growl from the muscle-bound man.  Raising his other, meaty fist, he hit her over the back of her head; her body going limp against him. Then the massive wrestler was moving into the dungeon that served in his room, Paul Bearer watching with a triumphant expression on his unnaturally pale visage.  Yet, that triumph soon faded for fear. It wouldn’t be long before ‘Taker found out what had happened. Once that happened, it would likely be open season on both him as well as Kane.

Licking his lower lip nervously, he hurried back up the metal stairs; only slightly relieved to see his ward was still being berated by Vince.  It wouldn’t be long before either Sting or ‘Taker figured out something was up. When that happened, all Hell would break loose. All he could hope for was that Kane would finish with the bitch quickly.  Once she was gone, everything could go back to normal. The Phenom would be back under his control, returning to his more zombie-like state. Smiling to himself, he bowed his head and made his way past the trio.  He never saw the pair of fighters narrow their eyes suspiciously at his passage.

 

_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~In the Dungeon~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _

 

Groaning, Sam opened her eyes slowly while her head throbbed like an infected tooth.  While her vision focused, she made a move to sit up. Metal shackles instantly pinned down her wrists, bringing her to full consciousness with a snap.  Almost immediately, she could see she wasn’t in the room she and Undertaker shared. In that moment, her memories returned and an icy chill filled her veins.  She had been taken by Kane and he had likely taken her to his private chambers. A room that was much different than the one his brother used.

Instead of stone walls, they were a strange, metal grating.  Some parts of it were covered with a thin, paper-like material.  Thick chains with large meat hooks on the ends hung from the ceiling and implements of torture were hung up on the wall opposite of her.  Beneath them was a blood coated, wooden work desk. Yet, there was no sign of Kane. Just as she was beginning to wonder where he was, she became aware of the sound of raspy breathing coming from behind her head.

With a feeling of dread broiling in the pit of her stomach, she tilted her head back; her gaze moving from a black clad stomach all the way up to a familiar mask.  Cold, black eyes locked onto her own, meaty hands cupping her cheeks. Unlike his brother, his skin was so hot it was almost painful. Drawing a breath in through clenched teeth, Sam tried to pull away but found she literally had nowhere to go.  There was a solid surface under her that prevented her from pulling away too far.

Snarling, the wild haired beast tightened his grip on her face; lowering his masked visage until they were nearly touching.  “Mine,” rasped an ill-used voice, sounding more monstrous than human. With a swift motion, he was shoving himself away from her; stomping his way over to the work table across the room.  Watching as he reached for a curved, serrated blade; Sam felt a bit of rage mix with the fear rushing through her system.

“You can mark me up all you want but that does not make me your property.  I only belong to one man and he happens to be your brother,” hissed out of her, making her would-be tormentor whip his head around to likely level her with an intense glower.

Breathing heavily for a few seconds, the behemoth gripped his chosen weapon before making his way toward her bound body.  Letting out a gruff, grinding sound that was probably laughter, he lifted her shirt so he could place the tip of his weapon against her skin.  Dragging the tip down, he created a long, shallow wound along her lower stomach. Biting her lower lip against a cry of agony, she spat in his masked face; drawing a gruff snarl.  With a vicious motion, he was drawing another wound from the opposite direction; making a messy ‘x’ across her stomach. Almost like he was marking where he was going to start cutting.

The symbolism not lost on her, Samantha began to scream in earnest.  Letting out a disheartening chuckle, Kane moved up to circle her breasts almost teasingly with the flat of his blade.  He wasn’t the least bit bothered by how loud she was screaming, not giving her much hope for her chances of being found before anything  _ too _ horrible happened.  Closing her mouth and gritting her teeth, she met the eyes of her tormentor.  No matter what he did to her, she would  _ not _ give him the satisfaction of hearing her pain.  Even if she had to bite through her bottom lip, she would make no further sounds.

Something felt... wrong.  Like this was a massive distraction.  Daring to break eye contact with the boss, ‘Taker hazarded a quick look over his shoulder to see if Sam was still safe.  When he saw she was gone, he felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. Before his brain had fully comprehended what was happening, his body was moving.  The only thing that stopped him was a hand gripping is right wrist in a painful grip. Turning his head, he saw Vince glaring up at him. “Where th’fuck ya think  _ you’re _ going?  We’re not done here.  None of us,” he spat out, narrowing his eyes at both fighters in front of him.

For the first time since he had awoken here, he felt the urge to disobey this man.  To just shove him out of the way and run down to the dungeons to see if his woman was in their room.  The only reason he hadn’t done so already was an instinctual fear. Something buried deep inside him that urged him not to disobey this man.  Yet, even that wouldn’t keep him in check for long. In a short amount of time, Samantha had become extremely important to him. She tickled long buried memories.  Memories of a life he’d had before he woke up here. She was the only person on this Earth he would be willing to disobey his boss over.

Seeming to sense this, the manager disguised as an announcer began the process of wrapping up what he was talking to them about.  By the time he was done, the ‘Phenom’ felt nearly frantic. A new sensation for the normally emotionless male. Striding toward the metal stairs that led down at a fast clip, he became aware of the fact he was being followed.  Turning his head, he saw his long-time rival right on his heels. Gritting his teeth, he simply kept going rather than waste time on arguing.

Making his way to the familiar dungeons below, he made a bee-line straight to his room.  The sense something was terribly wrong had become extremely pervasive. The only thing that would help him dispel it would be to see her safe in their room.  When the door opened and he only saw his urn on the floor, he felt his blood turn to ice. “Fuck! Shit! Kane,” came an unnecessary declaration from behind him.  Giving a singular nod, he spun on his heel and made his way to his brother’s room. Breaking into a sprint, he prayed to any Gods that were listening that she was still alive.

The entire world was pain mixed with the smell of blood, grunts of effort coming from the beast that was using her body as a twisted canvas.  Yet, to her credit, she hadn’t made any noise to give away just how much agony she was in. A fact that only seemed to drive Kane to new heights.  Growling low in his throat, the masked beast finished the latest scrawl in her skin; taking a few steps back to assess his work. Where once was blank flesh there were now beautiful swirls interlacing with intricate patterns.  Among the designs were more than a few signatures of his name, marking her permanently as his property.

Noticing the lack of new pain almost immediately, Sam looked over Kane to see what he was up to.  When she saw a callused hand reached for a blood splattered cheek, she flinched away. Snarling in disapproval, the masked terror gripped her chin in a painful grip before forcing her head back to face him.  Lifting the disguise slightly to reveal burned, mutilated lips, he bent to take her mouth in a kiss. Just as his melted lips were about to met hers, there was a sudden, hard crash from the vicinity of the door.  Turning to face the entry, he placed his mask back on his face and narrowed his eyes.

Hope flittering cautiously in her chest, she sucked in a breath and let out the loudest scream she could manage.  “ **_In here!!_ ** ,” roared out of her like a lion, shocking both her as well as her captor.  Like she’d hoped, this prompted more banging as whoever was out there tried to break the door down.  Growling like the animal he was, Kane tightened his grip on the instrument he had been using to torture her; obviously intending to use it as a weapon against his own brother.  Shifting his eyes toward her, he made a possessive noise before bracing himself for combat. A few seconds later, the metal door came crashing down. In a blur of black and purple, Undertaker rushed into the room; tackling his sibling to the concrete floor.  Behind him followed Sting, crimson eyes already scanning the room for any sign of Sam.

The second he saw her, he was at her side; swearing gruffly under his breath while he worked to free her from the torture table she had been laid out on.  After what felt like an eternity to the naked female, the wrestler found the latches for the cuffs; helping her sit up on the slightly inclined surface. “Fucking Christ...  What did that monster  _ do _ to you?” hissed behind her, the disgust clear in his voice while he covered her with a near-by towel.  While it was tattered and thin, it would at least hide her body from unwanted gazes. Turning her head toward the two males grappling on the ground, Sam reluctantly allowed herself to be led out of the room.

While she didn’t like the idea of just leaving Undertaker there, she felt even more uncomfortable about the fact that she was naked as well as bleeding from the innumerable, shallow cuts on her skin.  Once in the hall, she leaned into Sting for comfort; wincing when every movement she made irritated her wounds. It felt like he had left very little of her skin untouched, making her terrified to look in a mirror.  Right now, all she wanted was her wounds wrapped and a loose, comfy outfit. After that, she really didn’t care what happened. “Don’t worry hun. I’m sure ‘Taker has first aid in his room. I can help ya get patched up until he can have a look at you,” purred a quiet baritone beside her as they reached the door to a room she now considered a sanctuary.

As the man beside her opened the door, she rushed inside to scoop the urn off the floor.  Cradling the metal container in her arms, she made her way to the table; setting it down carefully before placing the towel around her shoulder on a chair.  Taking a seat, she crossed her arms over her chest while her legs crossed to shield her womanhood. Avoiding the gaze of her escort, she fixed her focus on a faraway wall while he came into the room to examine her.  Hovering his hands over the intricate designs that had been carved into her thighs, Sting felt the desire to kill well inside him. In all his years of fighting here, he had never seen anything this gruesome or sadistic.  “Okay hun. Stay right there. First I have to get something to clean those with,” he explained before getting to his feet.

Once some distance was between him and the sliced up female, he allowed the forced smile on his face to fall into a severe frown.  Hands curling into shaking fists, he ran to the room that served as the bathroom; heading right for the cabinet under the sink. After some digging, he pulled out the supplies he needed and made his way back to the shaking woman.  A bit surprised ‘Taker wasn’t back yet, he got to work on making sure all the designs in her skin were cleaned as well as disinfected. He had just finished working on one of her thighs when the ‘Phenom’ came rushing into the room.

Getting to his feet to put some distance between himself and a very naked Samantha, Sting fixed his eyes to those of a man he respected but had been forced to become an enemy of.  Narrowing his eyes, Undertaker gave low snarl before turning his gaze toward his lover. Taking that as a clear signal to leave, Sting gave Sam a last glance before he went out the door.  As much as he wanted to make sure she was okay, it wasn’t really his job. Shutting the door behind him, he made his way back toward where Kane lived. After what happened, he wanted to have a few words with the masked monster.

Sensing she was alone with ‘Taker, Sam tensed and kept her gaze away from him.  Despite the fact she knew it wasn’t her fault, she felt a deep shame. A shame that was punctuated by the stinging wounds covering her flesh.  Some part of her felt she should have fought harder, done more to try to escape before she had been knocked out. Closing her eyes, she flinched when she felt callused hands cup her face.  “Look at me,” rumbled from above her, the command in the voice almost undeniable.

Yet, deny it she did; shaking her head firmly.  Growling, Undertaker tightened his grip on her chin, forcing her head to turn and face him.  Yet, her eyes were still closed and he released a snarl of displeasure. “Samantha... look at me,” hissed another demand as he gave her a sharp shake.

“I-I can’t,” whispers out of the pale, traumatized woman as she tries to pull out of his grasp without opening her eyes.

Letting out another, feral sounding noise, Undertaker pressed his clammy forehead against hers.  “Yes you can, now open your eyes and look at me,” he roared, making her eyes snap open out of simple shock.  What she saw took her breath away. The normally cold, empty eyes of her lover were burning with a murderous rage as well as deep worry.

“Good.  Now, I want you to listen to me.  None of what just happened to you was your fault.  I don’t see you any differently than before. While it make take you a while to believe me, I need you to keep this in mind,” he assured before placing a passionate kiss on her lips.

Pulling away, he looked over her wounds with a serious expression on his goateed face.  “Though, I wish I had killed the bastard after seeing what he’s done to you,” continued his tense voice as he bent to look over the bandages covering one thigh.  With careful hands, he undid all of Sting’s hard work; exposing her recently covered wounds to the air. Before she could ask what he was doing, he began to murmur something under his breath in a guttural language.  A language that didn’t sound like it had come from anywhere on Earth, let alone their dimension. To make matters worse, an ominous, red glow had covered his hands.

Still murmuring low and under his breath, he placed both palms on her thighs.  Hissing in pain, Sam fought not to pull away while the strange light flooded into all the swirls that were imbedded into her skin.  Stinging pain turned into something unbearable, a scream crowding behind her tightly clasped lips. After what seemed like an eternity, the pain ebbed to a strange, tingling sensation; becoming almost pleasant.  Looking down at herself, she was shocked to see the cuts were disappearing; leaving behind unscarred skin.


	8. Stirring Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I know, I’m raising more questions than I am answering them. Don’t worry, all will be revealed in due time!

The scent of sulphur, death and blood.  The sounds of tormented souls mixing with those of demons and hellhounds.  A boat made of the bodies of the dead, some rotting while others were nothing but bone.  A massive beast with three heads, black fur and a snake for a tail. A woman that looks hauntingly like Samantha.  A man that eerily looks like Undertaker dressed in black robes and holding a wooden staff topped with the carving of a skull.  The feeling of intense love and loyalty with an undercurrent of dread. Like something awful was going to happen to the pair.

Gasping, ‘Taker opened his bottomless eyes; his arms tightening around his sleeping lover.  It almost felt like he was on the verge of remembering something. Something that could be very important and seemed to center around the woman on top of him.  Frowning slightly, he stared up at the stone ceiling; thinking until she began to stir. “Mmmmn. Morning,” hummed a sleep muzzed voice, soft lips landing on his chin.  Instinctually sitting up, the wrestler set his lover on the floor but made no move to get out of the coffin bed himself.

Unaware of her partner’s distress, Sam went over to the table the urn had been set on.  Running a careful hand over its steel surface, she shuddered when a shock of electricity travelled from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.  Body going stiff, she inhaled deeply while images flashed before her wide eyes. Images that went by far too fast for her to pick out anything but carried an emotional weight anyway.  By the time it was all over, unconscious tears were rolling down her cheeks. “What the  _ Hell _ was  _ that _ ?!” whispered out of her as she turned to look at the Phenom.  To her shock, he was right where she had left him; his emotionless eyes meeting hers steadily.

For a moment, silence passed between the pair, the infamous male unnaturally still.  Then he was lifting himself out of his casket, his bare feet hitting the stone with a sharp slap.  Pulling on his boots first, he made his way over to her; stopping just a few inches from touching her.  After another few beats of ear ringing quiet and disconcerting stillness, he slowly raised a hand to hover it over her right cheek.  Crinkling her brow in confusion, she leaned her head to one side so his skin could finally meet hers. “Memories,” growled out of him, making her jump out of her skin slightly.

Feeling even more lost, she looked from him to the urn and back again.  Did him regaining some of his memories have anything to do with her being the new keeper of the container?  If that was the case, that raised more than a few disturbing implications about the odd object. Though, it wasn’t surprising given the power it seemed to have over her lover.  “What did you remember?” she ventured cautiously, meeting his dark, shark-like eyes.

“I think you already know,” he responded quietly, removing his hand from her cheek to walk toward the steel door that lead to the outside.  Just as he reached it, a knock sounded on the metal.

Opening the entry, the Phenom glowered down at his short, overweight assistant.  Offering the platter of food to his ‘adopted’ son, Paul Bearer gave a nervous smile.  Narrowing his eyes, ‘Taker snatched the platter and slammed the door in the other man’s face.  Growling low in his chest, the irritated fighter set the food on the table and pulled out a chair for Sam.  Unfortunately, she was too busy staring at the closed entry to notice. What had happened with Kane had affected her a lot more heavily than she had originally let on.  Because of this, just the sight of the ghoulish assistant made her freeze.

Watching his lover in such deep distress only made the warrior more mad at the man that called himself his father.  Not to mention his supposed brother. Though, given what he had just recalled, he was seriously beginning to doubt everything he had been told.  Snapping his fingers in front of his beloved’s face, he waited until she was looking at him before taking her face in his large hands. Meeting her eyes carefully, he rested his forehead against hers.  “Neither of them will touch or dare come near you again,” hissed out of him while her wides eyes gazed up at him.

“Somehow, I doubt Kane will be persuaded by a beating.  You weren’t there. You didn’t see how insane he was,” whispered her shaky voice, unconscious tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

“Then I guess you’ll need a few more people watching your back,” responded a voice from the other end of the room.

Both parties turned their heads to look at door to see C.M. Punk leaning on the frame with his arms folded over his chest.  Lifting his upper lip reflexively, Undertaker released Samantha to turn and glower at one of his long time rivals. Smirking, the mischief maker simply came into the room; closely followed by Sting.  “As much as I hate agreeing with Punk on anything, he’s right. Sam needs all the allies she can get. Especially with Vince being aware of how much she means to you,” he pointed out, glaring at the man that had led him here slightly.

Smiling shakily at her guests, Sam walked over to the pair; hugging Sting and C.M. Punk in turn.  Then she was leading them to the table, finally taking her place near the head. Watching all of this with an aggitated expression, ‘Taker took a seat next to her.  The other two also took a seat, the painted warrior on the other side of the still shaking female. “After you two eat, I would suggest you go up to socialize with the others.  There are plenty of good men up there that would help protect you if given a chance,” the troublemaker murmured, seeming almost laid back as well as lazy.

“There are just as many that are also under Vince’s thumb.  Including the two of us. If given a chance, he could use us to get to her,” the man next to him pointed out, make-up coated brow crinkling slightly.

Punk merely shrugged in response, grabbing a piece of bacon; practically swallowing it whole.  “As much as I appreciate the concern, I can’t just rely on ‘Taker all the time. So, even if its a risk, I agree with C.M.,” Sam interjected quietly, staring down at her lap nervously.  After what had happened with Kane, she fully expected her lover to have an adverse reaction to her acquiescence. Unfortunately, she wasn’t disappointed. The Phenom immediately shot to his feet, pacing back and forth in a rather aggitated manner.

“I don’t like any of this!  One snap of the fingers and Sam could be in real danger.  If I had my way, she wouldn’t have to make alliances with anyone,” the wrestler pointed out, running a large hand through his shoulder length, black hair.

“I know but the reality is that you can’t be in two places at once.  Under these circumstances, wouldn’t it be better to have more eyes?” Punk pointed out while Sting pinched the bridge of his nose with an irate expression.

“You’re making way too much sense today.  You sure you’re the same C.M. Punk I’ve known all these years,” the painted fighter questioned, a dark brow raised.

Giggling, Samantha wiggled her eyebrows teasingly at her troublemaking friend while her massive lover took a seat to her left.  In fact, she was so focused on her acquaintances’ antics that she didn’t notice her partner glaring a hole in the table. Some of the things C.M. had said resonated with him.  Despite his odd powers, he truly couldn’t be everywhere. He had no choice but to agree with the mischief causing man he considered one of his rivals. A fact he despised more than he was willing to admit.  Wrapping an arm around his beloved, ‘Taker held her close to him while the shenanigans died down.

After breakfast, the two intruders had finally vacated the room; leaving the Phenom with the woman he loved.  “We’d better go upstairs, hang out with some of the guys. But I want you to stay away from Triple H. He’s not that bad of a guy but he only listens to Vince and doesn’t trust anyone.  Especially me. He would turn on you in a heartbeat,” husked some advice before a strong hand was helping her to her feet.

“There’s also the fact that we still don’t really know the reason why McMahon is keeping you a prisoner here.  I have a bad feeling he has something terrible planned because you are the only person to have woken me up. Before I met you, I was more like a zombie.  Simply living to fight,” he continued as he led her down the long, dark hall that led to the stairs.

Despite the fear flooding her at the moment, Sam stared at her lover in awe.  This had been the most he had spoken yet. Being a man that preferred to let his body language talk for him, it made her pay close attention to what he was expressing.  Biting her lower lip, she wound her arms around one of his and stuck close to him. Especially as they got closer to where Kane lived. Keeping one eye on the dark doorway while they walked past, she mulled over his words in her head.  While Vince had given her an initial reason for her captivity, it really didn’t make sense.

Just because she was with the ‘Dead Man’ didn’t mean she knew any more about him than a normal one night stand.  There had to be a hidden subtext, just like there was with the wrestlers. Why was it only a few seemed to be actual people?  Why did people that seemed to hate Vince have to obey him no matter what? Why did it feel like Punk knew a lot more about the situation than he was letting on?  Most of all, what memories of ‘Taker’s were resurfacing and what did they have to do with her? Feeling no closer to any answers, Sam resolved to corner C.M. the next time she had the opportunity.  Get him to stop beating around the bush and disclose what he knew.

Once they reached the ground floor, she shook herself out of her musings to pay close attention to her surroundings.  With how scared her partner and friends were, she couldn’t afford to be off guard. Scanning the area as they moved toward the ‘cafeteria’, she took note of one person in particular giving her the stink eye.  Leaning against a far wall and watching her like a hawk, was Triple H. Huddling closer to the warrior next to her out of instinct, she kept an eye on the man until they were well out of sight. There was just something in his dark eyes that made her feel like she was in danger.  In fact, she didn’t feel better until they had stepped into the ‘cafeteria’.

All the men she had met so far were in there with the exception of Mankind, Triple H, Kane, Paul Bearer and Vince.  Even Rock was there, shades covering his eyes and a bored expression on his tanned face. Feeling relief mixed with apprehension, she took a seat at the large table they had chosen; unsurprised when ‘Taker took a seat to her right and Sting took a seat to her left.  Punk, of course, had chosen a seat next to the Phenom just to bother the man. “Now that we’re all here, we can talk about the plan,” Hulk announced while the others took their seats. The only one that remained standing was Rock.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.  You want us to help protect Sam as much as we can,” Heartbreak Kid pointed out, leaning back in his chair with a smarmy grin on his too handsome face.

“Psh, if that’s the reason why I was pulled here I may as well leave right now.  I have no reason at all to watch out for Undertaker’s little whore,” Rock sneered, turning his head to one side with a disgusted snarl curling his upper lip.

Instantaneously, the Dead Man, Sting and Punk were on their feet.  The only thing that kept them from charging forward was Hulk getting to his feet, waving his meaty hands in a placating manner.  As soon as the trio sat down, the blonde wrestler was shooting a glare to his arrogant companion. “Brother, I know you don’t care for much more than yourself but it wasn’t always that way,” murmured his deep voice while his blue eyes narrowed.  Tensing, the arrogant wrestler removed his sunglasses to meet the other warrior’s eyes.

“Don’t... just don’t,” hissed a clear warning, his defined muscles bulging defensively.

“Then sit your ass down and listen,” Macho Man bit out, removing his own shades to glare up at Rock.

Shaking his head, the self absorbed male took a seat; putting his sunglasses back into place.  It was almost like the object was a shield between himself and the world. Like he had been injured deeply and was in no hurry to experience something like that again.  “Alright. Now, we’re all under Vince’s control but this doesn’t mean we are unable to do whatever we can to protect this little lady,” Hulk continued, acting like nothing had interrupted the meeting in the first place.

“Whenever one of us is available, we should make sure she’s safe from the background.  Try not to alert Vince to the fact we’re looking out for her,” Hitman suggested, running a hand through his curly, black hair; looking as worried as the rest of them.

It was an unspoken fact that if they got caught, it would mean an unimaginable amount of trouble for these men.  This, of course, made Sam appreciate what they were doing even more. Smiling slightly, she got to her feet and cleared her throat.  Once everyone was looking at her, she began to speak. “I can’t begin to express how grateful I am for all the trouble you guys are going through to ensure my safety but I just don’t feel good about putting all of you in danger just for me,” whispered her small, timid voice while all eyes fixed on her.

“Welp, there ya go!  I don’t have to do shit, so if you’ll excuse me,” Rock pointed out as he got to his feet.  It was only when Hulk grabbed his right wrist that he stopped in his tracks.

“You’re gonna stay right the fuck here,” the blonde snarled, blue eyes practically spitting fire.

“I appreciate your concern for us lil lady but we’re not really givin’ ya an option in this.  Anything happened to ya, a lot of us would never forgive ourselves,” Macho Man declared, a serious expression on his bearded face.

“He’s right.  So many of us have lost the ones we loved due to Vince’s interference.  We can’t just sit by and watch it happen again. No matter what might be the consequences of our intervention,” Hitman interjected, a haunted look in his hazel eyes.

In fact, all the men at the table seemed to carry some pain of their own; making her heart ache for them.  Whatever the boss man had done, it had to have been pretty awful. Yet, these people were still willing to obey him.  An observation that baffled her. If all these guys banded together, they could easily overpower Vince. So why didn’t they?  Why were all of them so afraid of one man? What did he have over this large group. Pursing her lips, she allowed her gaze to move toward Punk.  A man who might very well hold all the answers to her questions.

Unaware of Sam’s scrutiny, C.M. leaned back in his chair and watched the chaos.  Despite how serious the situation was, watching these men in such disarray brought a smile to his scruffy features.  Yet, a small part of him was concerned; an unusual sensation for him. All this rivalry and distraction could pose a problem to keeping Samantha safe.  Not to mention what Vince would do when he found out. Just the thought of it made the troublemaker shudder. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” whispered a question in his ear, practically making him jump out of his skin.

Spinning around, he was a bit stunned to see the woman he had been thinking about giving him and almost suspicious glance.  Getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, the wrestler gave a cautious nod before getting to his feet and following her.  Thankfully, they didn’t go far from the table; just far enough that the others wouldn’t be able to hear. Feeling more and more nervous, Punk shifted from foot to foot while reaching up to rub the back of his head.  “Do you know anything about what’s happening here? Cause if you do, I want you to tell me what it is,” hissed the brunette, azure eyes narrowed.

Knowing he was caught and not really wanting to lie to someone he considered a friend, the lanky male gave a very reluctant nod before letting out a slow breath.  “I’ve known since I was summoned here. I think I’m the only one that retained their memory. Its not exactly something I can just share about either because if Vince got wind of what I knew, my memories would be forfeit,” husked a quiet response while dark eyes looked around the room to make sure none of the others had approached.  For a wonder, not even ‘Taker had come to see what was happening. In fact, the behemoth was just watching them from his seat at the table.

Feeling even more confused, Sam felt her head begin to pound while questions whirled in her brain like a hurricane.  Before she could ask any of them, Punk was holding up a hand to stop her. “Before I tell you, I need you to give me a solemn promise that you won’t share this with anyone.  Not even ‘Taker,” he continued, a deadly serious expression on his visage. A bit taken aback, Sam licked her lips while her eyes travelled to her lover. While she felt bad keeping anything from him, she  _ had _ to know what was going on.

“I swear on Undertaker’s urn that I won’t breathe a word,” she responded, ignoring the sickening feeling that filled the pit of her stomach.

Nodding, C.M. gave a final glance toward the group that was now dispersing before taking a deep breath and releasing it.  “Alright, just try to keep an open mind. What I’m about to say may seem a bit unbelievable. I’m also sure you’ll think I’m lying due to my reputation.  So just listen and don’t interrupt,” husked a stern order.

“A-alright,” Sam whispered, feeling more and more nervous about what she might come to learn, not to mention how much danger the knowledge would put her in.

“We’re not humans in the way you think.  We’re not even technically alive. All of us are Gods of some sort.  All of us were summoned here by Vince and he is the only reason why we exist on this plane at all.  He could easily erase our existence by simply ripping up our contract. If we dare to disobey him, we are basically dead.  To top it off, I know which God each of us are,” Punk informed, seeming to brace himself for her response.

Sam merely blinked while she tried to absorb the strange facts.  While it did, indeed, seem unbelievable; a lot of it made an odd sort of sense.  As out there as it sounded, it explained just why these strong men obeyed someone like Vince.  “Still, why would any of that matter if they can’t remember how they came into being?” she pondered out loud.

“They can sense it in the back of their heads.  Almost like an instinct,” whispered an answer while ‘Taker finally began to approach them, seemingly tired of waiting for their conversation to be over.

“I can tell you more later.  There’s more you need to know, especially when it comes to the ‘Dead Man’,” Punk continued before turning and walking away, leaving her alone with her enigmatic lover.


End file.
